Soulborn
by nyet khan
Summary: Not in every universe does Ichigo choose Soul Society in favor of the real world. He was happy when he died at 121. Now its time to remember why everything seems so familiar in the afterlife.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach and its intellectual property so please don't sue me._

**AN: Not in every universe does Ichigo choose Soul Society in favor of the real world. He was happy when he died at 121. Now its time to remember why everything seems so familiar in the afterlife.**

**S**

"…_Kurosaki-kun?"_

_He'd never known silence could be painful._

"_I'm sure."_

**S**

Awareness came jolting, a sort of panic similar to that of a jarring wake-up. Bright blue sky peeked at him from between twining branches, the sound of birds far too loud. Completely unthreatening save for the fact it was all wrong.

Absent were the sounds of children playing, the soft tinkle of plates being washed, or the dull hum of the occasional car. That was the first sign.

Muscles spasmed as he brought what should have been arthritic limbs under his control. That was the second sign and as far as Ichigo was concerned, everything sort of faded after that.

Gone where the hoppled knuckles, the occasional scar—each with a story of its own—and aches and pains that had become so familiar as to be uncomforting when they were finally gone.

It was what was left behind that left him gapping. Smooth hands, thin and lanky. Skin tight and flush in a way he'd hardly remembered. Hair, wild and uncontrollably spiky all the way to his shoulders, teased him with every wind—jarring because he'd lost what little hair he'd had a long time ago. Still the same wild orange, a trick of genetics and his oldest bane.

Ichigo had never been a fool.

A 121 year old man did not go to sleep one night and wake up in the lanky body of his youth. Gone was his room in his granddaughter's house, surrounded by the messy knickknacks collected over the course of his long life.

He didn't have to think very hard to know he was dead (most people generally wondered how he was still alive). Death was hardly the worst surprise he'd ever gotten, though certainly one of the most expected. But still…what an odd afterlife. Somehow he'd always figured there'd be a gatekeeper around.

His musings were interrupted when his stomach gurgled its demand. Hunger called him and a mischievous Ichigo nearly giggled. There was no doctor or far too mean granddaughter around to berate him over too salty food.

He'd find food, Ichigo decided. Trembling every once in a while from still confused muscles, Ichigo vaguely wondered who else was sharing this afterlife (and who he could hit up for food.)

Far away, several black-robed figures stopped and wondered why a chill seemed to pass over them.

Both his children were dead (about the only thing Ichigo had ever regretted was having outlived them) though he knew better than to be sad. The little brats had lived long enough to be wrinkly, mouthy old brats—Little Masaki having died at 72, outliving her brother by nearly a year. _Twins_, his first wife had muttered exasperated as scuffled children competed against each other.

A couple of his grandchildren had passed on as well (not too many and the few that did died young). The only great-grandchild to have died was stillborn. _Tiny Shinji, Granddaughter Rei had wept so bitterly. No one ever did figure out why the boy had died. These things just happen, the doctors had murmured right before Ichigo had kicked them out. Useless quaks._

His only great-great-grandson was very much alive. A far too energetic three year old that was the bane of his minder and grandmother, his granddaughter Yume.

His sisters' perhaps…sensible Karin and her far too clear eyes. She'd been annoyingly practical and truthfully the cornerstone of his sanity in their youth. Sweet Yuzu, forever a little girl in memory. A deep pain ghosted his heart, always there whenever he thought of his little sister and her too young death. But this was death and perhaps now would be the time to welcome a new (after) life. His young bones were proof enough of that.

"_It's time for all things to wake_." Murmured a dual voice, unheard by Ichigo but waiting all the same.

**S**

"_Everything started because I wanted to protect them. I won't change my mind!" Ichigo yelled. "Please Inoue. Seal it away even if it means forgetting."_

"_For Karin." Orihime finally agreed, crying silently even as she reached for her oblivious love. "We'll seal you from your reiatsu and…you'll forget…you were ever one of them."_

"…_thank you."_

**S**

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**S**

_Uruhara never looked up as Ichigo yelled at him._

_Fiercely_

_Foully_

_Angrily_

_What a fool he'd been to trust, to fight battles that weren't his while his family…_

_His idiot of a father…his precious little sister…_

"_Forget this." Ichigo interrupted his own tirade. "Just…just forget this."_

**S**

The afterlife was turning to be a lot more of a pain than it should have been.

_Fine_, Ichigo got it. Heaven and Hell were human concepts. But why didn't anyone warn you how hungry death was going to make you?

Honestly. Shit-brains.

The afterlife was turning out to be a bother. The least of which was because Ichigo had forgotten how annoying it had been being a little kid. He was less than trilled when he realized his body was _twelve_. He couldn't honestly y even _remember_ what he'd done the last time he'd been twelve.

At least the patch of forest he'd awoken in finally had a name. East Rukongai District 76. It had taken him little time to figure out it wasn't exactly the best place to scavenge for some food. But Ichigo was young and fit, in a body hardy enough for things a 121-year old man had been prohibited from doing decades ago.

He flew into ingrained stances, a dance that was half-trilling and half-bittersweet in something forgotten.

It was how Ichigo was able to have his first bite of bread. Not the most tantalizing morsel out there but for an empty stomach it was nearly heaven. Hidden in an alley (those who normally inhabited such places had no need in District 76) Ichigo swallowed his last piece.

_And what will you do when you're hungry again? _A voice asked, sounding suspiciously like Karin. Ichigo shrugged at the imaginary voice. Yes, he knew he should have saved some but really, he was _hungry_. Still was.

"Shit!" A voice yelped out before something crashed in the farthest end of his alley. Ichigo stared curiously at the direction. He'd never been one cowardly (or smart) enough to run.

"Idiot." Someone else reprimanded followed by soft crying.

"Oi! Who's there?" Ichigo called out without thinking.

Even without seeing them Ichigo could tell they were frozen. Amateurs.

A minute later a hasty scrambled revealed two scowling boys and what looked to be a curious girl the same age with a young child in her hands. The boys moved forward, both holding planks of wood too big for their bodies to wield properly. Ichigo didn't say anything, having the most confusing feeling he should be last to criticize.

"Go way! Go 'fore we bash yer head in!" One of the scowling boys yelled out.

Ichigo glanced at their trembling hands, very much doubtful.

"This here's our territory! You aren't welcome!" Yelled the other.

Baffled Ichigo merely titled his head at them. They weren't all that threatening. But it was the child who completely ruined what weak image they had. Tear-stained, the child smiled a wide smile at Ichigo.

"Dammit Yukino! I told you to keep the kid away!" Snapped one of the boys.

The other boy followed suit. "Don't yell at her! Yer the one that wanted to keep the little brat to begin with."

The child forgot his smile and began crying again. The girl—Yukino—glared at the boys and padded the child helplessly.

In the background Ichigo scratched the back of his head.

"Never mind that Kentaro! What about _him?_" The still nameless boy pointed at the forgotten Ichigo.

"Like either of you two—combined—had enough luck to even hit me." Ichigo scoffed, before sprinting toward them. A kick was flying before they even knew, smashing one plank and propelling him into the other boy. The other plank was smoothly plucked out of the boy's weak grip.

Kentaro gulped. It was just their luck the orange-haired idiot was strong.

"And it's not like I cared about your precious territory." Ichigo continued.

Shinji sighed, knowing they had little choice but to hope Ichigo and whoever traveled with him (no child could survive by themselves—especially not in District 76) weren't going to be too much trouble. "Where is the rest of your group?"

"…group?" Ichigo mouthed a familiar word that brought to mind almost-there memories. Curiously he glanced behind him and was more disappointed than he should have been do find himself alone. "Don't have a group."

Kentaro eyed the newcomer incredulously. "You some inner brat then? District 76 isn't the place to be alone in—only fools think they can survive like that."

Ichigo stiffed indignantly. "I'm no fool!"

"Wait! You mean yer really alone?"

"You got a problem with that?" Ichigo shot back.

Silently the three older children eyed each other, a whole conversation in the twitch of their eyebrow. Finally the girl nodded to herself, placing the child on the ground and stepping forward. "Saa…how long ago did you die?"

Ichigo was inclined not to answer, more than a little stubborn. He stayed silent, ignoring the girl's glare, before finally shrugging. "Couldn't have been more than two or three days."

Both boys flinched, something pitying in their eyes.

"And you landed in District 76?"

"So?" Ichigo said with enough irritation to remind them he'd already proved their superior in street-style brawl.

Yukino glanced behind Ichigo at the distant street, voices muffled somewhat by their isolation. "Perhaps it would be best if we talked more privately."

"Yukino!" Shinji protested.

"Get over it Shinji." Yukino snapped. "He can help us—you said yourself. No one survives alone."

"Yeah." Kentaro agreed. "And with the midget dead-weight we got even less of a chance."

She led him into a little den, the basement of one of the surrounding buildings. It was crudely decorated by what was honestly someone else's trash. Still there had been thought to make it as comfortable as possible.

"I'm Yukino, don't remember if I ever had a last name. This is Ito Kentaro and Yasumoto Shinji. And this little boy is Hiroki.

"If you don't know yet District 76 is one of the most lawless places in all of Rukongai. You generally don't hear of the newly dead, specially not children, surviving for very long around here.

"I guess that biggest thing around here is breaking the saying, 'you're born alone, and you die alone'. At least when you're born you are born to someone. When you die, death leaves you alone. Everyone in Rukongai makes there own family—course that usually only means the lucky brats from the lower Districts.

"Around here most people don't ever find anyone from their Life Before. Like I said, the lucky ones wake in the other Districts where they'll go into families. Out in the fringe districts you won't find too many people wanting families, least of all for reasons that you can sleep with. S'why we form our own little groups. These groups usually have their own territories; if you're strong you'll keep the territory but if you're weak…We lost a lot of kids just recently. District 76 s'not kind."

"You wanna stay on?" Kentaro interrupted.

"Why should I? I haven't any trouble making my way so far."

Shinji scowled.

"True." Yukino conceded. "But you could stay on a bit, just till you figure out what Rukongai is all about. I bet you haven't even seen a Shinigami."

Sullen features melted into an odd expression. "Shi…ni…gami?"

"I don't see why you have to beg the street rat, Yukino. Let him go if he wants—his luck will run out soon enough. District 76 s'not kind."

Ichigo scowled at the three other children, becoming vaguely annoyed when he realized all three were actually taller than him. Had he been such a midget as a boy? Somewhere in the hazy memories of more than a century past Ichigo recalled shooting up overnight, finally gaining the brute strength he'd relied on for a long time before formally training with Tsukazi.

"Fine." Ichigo finally crumbled. "But only till I know what this whole afterlife deal is about."

Ichigo told himself his decision had nothing to do with the boy named Shinji and disquieting thoughts of his great-grandson's early death.

**S**

"Wait, wait. What do you mean you're hungry?"

"I mean I'm _hungry_, dumbass."

Yukino sighed in exasperation. At her heels Hiroki made senseless noises as he pushed little blocks of wood in a game only he knew.

Kentaro laughed at Yukino. Shinji merely tilted his head away, something like puzzlement flashing across his face.

"Ye wanted him, ye explain it."

"Oh get on with you." Yukino snapped. "Go see if Ryuu-sama has any work for you. The last thing we need is for him to know how useless you two actually are. I'll talk to him and follow."

Ichigo scowled. He was beginning to get tired of being reminded of his ignorance with every sentence he spoke.

"You got to understand how special that is, Ichigo. You're so…young—"

"What you mean by _that_?" Ichigo snapped. Dammit, he was 121 years old. Sure he enjoyed being able to run freely but did he have to be in such an immature body?

"Shut it, idiot; I'm trying to explain. Now, most everyone in Soul Society has some level of reiatsu, but most of us have such low levels it won't ever matter. No Shinigami will take us and no hunger will touch us. Only those with a lot of reiatsu are hungry, and of them most of them aren't as young as you.

"There's something you should also know. The more reiatsu you have the slower you age. There are Shinigami captains that've been alive for thousands of years!"

"So I have reiatsu?" Ichigo half-asked, knowing the answer even before he spoke.

"Yes, but that isn't your biggest problem. I explained what we do. We're Ryuu-sama's messengers. It's a pretty shitty deal but its our best alternative. We're street-rats, no one wants us and no one will look after us. We're mostly useless spaces, too young to know much of anything and so low on the reiatsu ladder it isn't even worth keeping us around permanently.

"The thing is you are. If you've been eating half as often as I think you have, then you've the potential to be very strong. There are people out there who'll see your power and con an ex-Shinigami into training you to become some high-class thug. It's a good deal so long as you keep off Shinigami notice. But its not known for being something anyone retires from.

"Either way, you're trouble. We asked you on do help us defend our territory but we weren't planning on introducing you to our Client. There's less of a chance now. I'm warning you now because it won't be nice if it happens later. If someone that can sense reiatsu finds you then you better run but make sure you don't run back here. We don't need trouble with Ryuu-sama."

"Whatever." Ichigo dismissed as he lay back down on a lumpy sofa, content to take a nap.

**S**

"_ICHIGO! ICHIGO!...You idiot…" Karin whispered, stifling tears that refused to go away._

"_Hey, hey," Ichigo clumsily padded his little sister's back. "Don't…don't cry, Karin."_

_"I…" Karin spoke haltingly. "I couldn't find you."_

_Ichigo brought his sister in close, careful to not let her see his face and the emotions they might betray. "Don't be silly. I'm right here."_

"_I woke up," She continued. "And I thought it was…Before. I kept waiting for Yuzu to wake me up or for father to pick a fight with you. I kept waiting…"_

_Ichigo nodded silently, face pressed against dark hair; his father's hair he remembered. Yuzu had their mother's hair and Ichigo had God's joke._

"_I know." He murmured, knowing there was nothing else to say. "It happens to me too all the time."_

"_I know it sounds…awful of me but I can't wait till we close up this house and go to Tokyo. Without father and Yuzu…it isn't the same."_

"_They'd understand." Ichigo whispered just as quietly as his sister. He was eighteen years old and the closest thing to a father Karin would ever have now. He couldn't be a kid anymore; Karin needed him to be a grown-up. "We'll be in Tokyo for a couple years, just till I finish school._

" _And, Karin, we won't forget but one day it won't hurt so much to know they aren't besides us anymore. And once I finish my medical degree we'll come back if you want to. I'll open dad's clinic again and maybe one day you'll give this house another loud-mouth Kurosaki kid."_

"_Shut up, idiot." Karin muttered, smiling reluctantly. _

"_One day, it'll be so it doesn't hurt so bad to remember." Ichigo promised his sister, completely serious._

_She nodded her agreement, content to believe her brother. _

**S**

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**S**

"_What have you done?" Rukia whispered, horrified. "Orihime…what have you done?"_

_Orihime bowed her head, letting long bright hair spill in front of her face. "Kurosaki-kun? I'll see you tomorrow."_

"_Ah…sure." The boy shrugged before eyeing the girl a bit strangely. "Inoue, were you talking to someone just now?"_

_Orihime laughed nervously. "What? No! No! I was just…thinking out loud!"_

_Ichigo's face nearly betrayed a rare look of concern. "If you say so. See you tomorrow."_

"_Of course! Of course, goodbye then."_

_Orihime restlessly cleaned the tea setting while Ichigo's footsteps retreated down her apartment hallway. With a silent thump Rukia collapsed onto an empty chair._

"_What have you done, Orihime?" Rukia repeated, her voice choked._

_The girl in question didn't look up. And in the shadowy silence of Orihime's face, soft tears fell on the spotless countertop. "Abrai-kun said they are calling it the Arrancar War…back then I'd never imagined it to be so…big. But we fought, didn't we Kuchiki-san?"_

"_You did…"_

"_And it all began with Kurosaki-kun, didn't it? He's such a good friend; he was always protecting us, getting stronger for us. Kurosaki-kun may act unfriendly at times but everything he's done, he's done for someone one else. And we were all just friends, some of us not even that when he fought alongside us." Orihime reminisced. "What do you think he would have done for his family?"_

"_W-What? What are you talking about Orihime? Tell me…what have you done?"_

_Orihime fluttered before settling once more. "You've been so very busy these last few weeks. I imagine it will be a while before the war is completely put behind us. But here…there are still Hollows here, attracted to people with strong reiatsu…Yuzu-chan had strong reiatsu."_

"_Yuzu-chan…? Kurosaki Yuzu—Ichigo's sister?!"_

"_Y-You remember her? A Hollow came for them. Kurosaki-san tried to protect Yuzu-chan and Karin-chan…"_

"_That's not possible! Kurosaki Isshin is a former Shinigami Captain! No captain can be defeated by a simple Hollow!" Rukia whispered harshly, well aware of how few  
Shinigami actually knew who Ichigo's father was. They'd all been sworn to secrecy as it was._

_Orihime continued evenly, pausing only to wipe a steady stream of tears. "S-Soul S-Society law says exile Shinigami must renounce their power. Kurosaki-san's bind broke once but only after much time. The second time…h-he had n-nothing to fight the H-Hollow with."_

_Rukia rubbed her chest, the area where her heart twinged painfully. Old eyes looked away from Orihime, eyes that had buried a great deal of her childhood companions. "A-All of them?"_

"_No." Orihime breathed in shakily. "Karin…She's fine now."_

_Finally something like understanding drifted through Rukia's face. "What did he ask you to do?"_

"_Kurosaki-kun can not undo what he has done, everyone has told him that. But he can bind what he is; bind it so deeply he will completely seal it from his life._

"_Kurosaki-kun isn't a Shinigami anymore."_

_Rukia's face hardened, 150 years of life as a Shinigami fighting every thought that sought to understand Ichigo's actions, her instincts trained for duty and honor. This was the woman that would have died on the orders of her superiors. _

_And Rukia was ashamed to admit how utterly…angry she was at his foolishness. "He should have called us…You could have called us! Why did you let him do this? Why did you let him run away?"_

_And for the first time since Orihime met Rukia, the former finally found an area where Orihime was not lacking in comparison. Rukia had never had anyone utterly depend on her, never known how completely someone could trust in her to make everything alright again. While Orihime had also never shared that burden she had loved her brother enough to understand how much he gave for her._

_He'd been the same age as Ichigo when he decided he would be the father his little sister needed. If anyone could respect Ichigo's choices, it would be Orihime. _

_"You can not understand the choices he made, Kuchiki-san. Karin-chan is very young and now she is alone. Kurosaki-kun felt his greatest responsibility is to his sister, he cannot continue being a soldier for Soul Society. Not when his reiatsu will bring every half-decent Hollow do his doorstep and to Karin."_

"_I…won't forgive him for running away." For leaving her, Orihime imagined Rukia meant. _

"_Though I doubt he will ask for forgiveness." Orihime said softly in the empty room, Rukia's shadow ghosting out the window. "You did not understand. Your brother protected you as best as he could. He has never needed the same from you."_

**S**

"Ow! Ow! What was that for, dumbass?!" Ichigo yelped as Yukino yanked him by his upper arm. The girl stiffed as she continued to drag the younger (relatively) boy alongside. She finally stopped when they were alone.

"Idiot." She muttered. "Look, I'll warn you now—payment for helping us protect our territory."

Ichigo's face abruptly trained of humor, momentarily unsettling Yukino on how swiftly his moods could shift. "What's going on?"

"Ryuu-sama's bringing in some more rats from over District 78. He's not been entirely happy with us as runners. So many of us have either gone off or died…it isn't safe for you to be anywhere near Ryuu-sama and Hiroki's too young. The thing is…we—me, Kentaro, and Shinji—we won't say anything about your reiatsu but you can't trust the other rats will keep quiet. They owe Ryuu-sama more than enough to sell you out.

"I'm not telling you so you'll leave; you've been wonderful helping protect us from the crazy's that walk about. But if you stay on you'll have to be careful. Don't ever let anyone see you steal more food than normal, don't ever let anyone see you eat more than the rest. There are rats out there that would sell their own blood if it meant they'd get a secure position with someone."

Brows furrowed, Ichigo glared off to the side.

"Just think about it…" Yukino called out as she quickly retreated.

Ichigo remembered.

There'd been a man in the market two days ago. Fine clothes did not hide scars that littered his skin. He'd laughed as he ate messily, sauce dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Reiatsu had fluttered unsteadily, an eerie match to eyes that gleamed with something other than sanity.

It was every wanna-be crime boss' dream to have his own Shinigami-for-hire. Even if it meant scavenging from the barrel of unclaimed rats. It didn't matter if the kid survived the unorthodox methods needed to turn a rat into canon fodder for the Shinigami to feed on. It didn't matter what it turned the kid into.

**S**

"_They're cutting our retreat!" A male screamed, wild red hair flaring around a shadow face—_

"Shit." Ichigo cursed as he clutched his temple.

"—_Where's the rest of Fifth Division!" A hoarse scream rose from the furious clash._

_His own lips moved in response, "The Eight Espada has them dancing!"_

"_Let's not let them have all the fun!"_

His head pounded fiercely, his mind tearing itself apart.

It hurt.

"_It's taichou to you Kurosaki." A serious white-haired child reprimanded. Their breath harsh as they settle racing hearts, back pressed against their thin cover._

_A reckless grin was his answer, lost a second later as the world exploded in power—._

Legs collapsed under him. Ichigo only had the vague thought to be grateful for the fact he was alone. The new rats the Ryuu-creep had brought in gave him more than reason enough to distrust them. The way Ichigo was loosing control of his reiatsu it would be a miracle if nobody traced it back to him.

—_Fiery brown eyes stared into Aizen's treacherous gentle face. "Your trick won't work this time, bastard. Didn't you ever think there'd come a time when someone would really make you pay?"_

"_And you think you'll be the one?" Aizen stated, amused curling the corner of his mouth. "I think not, child."_

"_We'll see about that!"_

A powerful reiatsu approached in the distance. Ichigo winced painfully as he tried to stifle his visions. If this didn't let up soon, it would be the saddest laugh. Felled by his own body. Shinigami or crime-powered thug, his instincts were telling him it was a bad idea to meet either of them. Not as he was now…

_Teal eyes were locked on the girl crumbled on the ground, bright hair spilled carelessly. _

"_I…I never meant to hurt her…"_

_Anger, regret, and sorrow curled in the pit of his stomach. But above all, tiredness was what made his arms shake. He was so…tired. _

Ichigo would show these damn visions they could not just intrude into his life!

_Her scream broke the silence. Heart pounding fiercely, Ichigo tumbled from his bed. His dazed mind couldn't remember exactly why it was so vital but his instincts knew he couldn't ignore her scream._

_The door slammed, his intrusion into the girl's room completely inconsequential in the face of the girl herself, crying hysterically in her bed._

"_Karin! Karin!" Ichigo called, as he fell to his knees besides her, arms already reaching to hold his trembling sister. "Shhh, I'm here Karin."_

_The girl buried her face against his shoulder, tears soaking his shirt. Ichigo just held her tighter, troubled face glancing to the empty twin bed in the room. _

_The funeral had been this afternoon. Ichigo should have known Karin wouldn't sleep through the night. At least it settled one matter for him. _

_Karin needed him. He couldn't keep on being a kid anymore, running about without worry of responsibilities._

"YOU FOOL!" Shinji yelled as he decked Ichigo as hard as he could. "What are you doing?!"

Ichigo gasped harshly, palms pressed against stinging eyes.

"You don't flare your reiatsu for all of District 76 to feel and expect no one to notice. Get up idiot!"

Shakily Ichigo pulled himself up. He'd never been able to stay down even when it was in his best interest.

"God dammit Ichigo! Get up and run! Run as far away as you can. Every crime boss with a decent thug under his hire is going to be scrounging this place."

"No…" Ichigo gasped. "The Shinigami will get here first."

Shinji glanced wildly around him, "Now?"

There was something like hope and despair in his eyes. It was then that he finally understood why he'd found Shinji such an odd boy to begin with. Why Yukino and the other's had been so ready to protect Ichigo when it wasn't in their benefit.

"You know…" Ichigo finally settle his body. "Flare your own reiatsu. They don't come by here too often and chances are you'll not reach Distinct 33 never mind 3 in one piece if you go on your own. Ask them to take you to the Academy."

To his credit Shinji didn't even ask how Ichigo had figured it out. The longing increased in eyes that Ichigo had always found a touch on the paranoid side. Of course he'd have to be to survive having strong reiatsu in an area where the very fact would have made him into someone's pet.

"I can't. That idiot Kentaro would never be able to take care of Yukino and Hiroki."

"Then improve their chances. Two Shinigami are coming, ask them to take them with you and drop them off at a lower District."

Uncertainty crept into Shinji's face, not entirely erasing the despair but certainly easing it.

"The Ryuu-creep pretty much decided your life here when he brought in the other rats. How long do you think they'll tolerate the rest of your group?" Age had taught Ichigo many things, among them the art of talking your way into what you wanted. He'd practiced a great deal on his mean granddaughter.

"What about you?" Shinji finally asked, ignoring Ichigo's smirk as another reiatsu flared besides him.

"Me?" Ichigo mused.

_Blond hair was tossed back, as the boy only widened a smile that he'd always found annoyingly big._

_It was just unnatural._

"_I told you Ichigo," mirth colored his voice. "We are kin."_

"I'm going to go look for someone."

Shinji looked perplexed, finally glancing toward the direction Ichigo had long-since sensed the Shinigami coming from.

"This is where we split, Shinji-kid." Ichigo smirked. "Grab your friends and don't let them say no. The Shinigami need all the recruits they can get. Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Fair met." Shinji smiled for the first time, their time of departure finally the moment when Shinji could trust Ichigo.

Ichigo's normal sullen expression softened. In a rare moment of wistfulness Ichigo admitted something far too private. "I imagine my great-grandson Shinji could have been something like you…."

Shinji still carried his dumbfounded expression when he gathered Kentaro, Yukino, and Hiroki.

"Where's Ichigo?" Yukino asked anxiously, nervous hands practically yanking Shinji forward.

Shinji shrugged. "The old man had to go away. Shinigami are coming."

"What?" Kentaro yelped, glancing skyward as if they would descent any minute. "We got to leave!"

Shinji shook his head. "Not this time. It isn't safe to stay here anymore Kentaro, Yukino. Not for either of you. I'm going with the Shinigami and we're going to make them drop you off in the inner Districts."

"We will?" An amused voice interrupted, black shihakushō naming him a Shinigami.

"This him?" A feminine voice asked, frowning in confusion at the boy that was nearly bristling at her partner. "I could have sworn…"

"My name is Yasumoto Shinji." Shinji protested clearly.

"Yare, yare." The man continued. "So it is…"

The woman known as Hinamori Momo shivered, something ghosting her skin as being completely out of place. Hinamori shrugged after a moment, returning her attention back to the boy in front of her.

The Academy was always looking for new recruits and her captain would no doubt be pleased with her report if the boy was as strong as she sensed. Just another little bit in the endless chasm she atoned to.

Because she was Hinamori Momo, once vice-captain of Fifth Division under Captain Aizen and known for being broken on his sword. No one had ever forgotten just how disastrously weak a vice-captain could be made. Fierce combat strength tempered like the weakest steel.

Still she thought she'd sensed something familiar…Something from her distant memory.

**S**

**TBC…**

**A/N: Just on a personal note. I was checking out someone's favorites and I found it hysterical they had me down. The funny part is they had my other story (different fandom) from a different account. **

**Guess they like my style.**


	4. Chapter 4

**S**

"_So this is your solution, King of Mine?" A white shadow asked as it knelt besides him. "Put me away like a toy you have outgrown?"_

_The white shadow shifted toward Ichigo, pale arms coming to wrap Ichigo from behind. The fact that the touch was so familiar surprised him; there'd never been a great deal of people he'd allowed into his personal space. As a rule of thumb it was harder to hit back someone that managed to get that close to you._

"…_And you're alright with this?" He asked hesitantly as a pale head settle over Ichigo's shoulder._

_The shadow laughed with something other than amusement. When he spole his voice was strangely bland, an odd apathy in the face of oblivion. For Ichigo who'd expected threats, rage and maybe a bloody fight for dominance, was in turn left unsettled at his shadow's passiveness._

"_Of course not, foolish little King! But we understand one another now." The shadow stated with complete confidence. Ichigo didn't bother refuting the statement. This was probably the only being he'd never had the liberty of lying to. _

"_You are me and I am you, my King." The white shadow continued. "Two powers of the same soul. Two sides of the same blade you could say. It doesn't matter if you choose to forget, I will always exists in your soul. So what concern is it if you indulge in a mortal life for however many years it takes you to get into one mess even your luck can't get you out of?"_

"_You're being unusually understanding." Ichigo muttered a tat suspiciously. Pale hands twined, tightening their hold on Ichigo. _

"_Only because you are being unusually reticent about entering some harebrained life-threatening situation…again." His white shadow chided. "Without reiatsu the Hollows won't go after you and the meddlesome Shinigami won't be able to track you. Your little mortal friends are ridiculously loyal—they'll keep quiet._

"_It's true you'll forget, my King, but eventually even you must die. And that day…"_

_Ichigo nodded finally letting tiredness slump his shoulders, body turning lax in his shadow's hold. It was an odd moment of vulnerability. He didn't have the luxury of showing anyone else the toll the whole bloody campaign had taken upon him. _

_Only in front of his shadow…because his shadow was right. They were One in the end. _

_Gleaming white strands spilled over his eyes, his shadow tilting his face to glance upward at the cloudy sky. _

"_It's what you get for letting the damn Shinigami depend on you." His shadow interjected, taking a page from his oldest grievance against his King. Ichigo might be his King but he'd never stopped believing him to be a somewhat foolish King. "But we'll get them back—we'll make their little soldier forget all about them."_

_Ichigo didn't say anything, knowing he'd little chance of changing his shadow's mind. Besides, he wasn't all together certain he even had a sound argument anymore. He was eighteen years old and so very tired._

"_Besides," His white shadow concluded. "It's about time it stop raining."_

_Ichigo tilted his own head skyward, rumbling clouds a mirror image of his own thoughts._

"_About time, huh?" Ichigo mussed wistfully. _

**S**

Had Ichigo been anyone else he would have stopped and seriously wondered why so much crazy shit was trickling out of the depth of his mind. As it was the fact he was dead was the only thing stopping him from telling his mean granddaughter to up his medication.

As it turned out his afterlife left him with a greater capacity for belief—though little Masaki had once said her father had the oddest habit of believing some truly strange things.

And right now Ichigo had a very unsettling feeling he had been in Soul Society before.

His brash attitude might at times lead to the impression Ichigo was completely thoughtless when it came to serious matters but that had never quite been true. While it was fact he'd been more inclined to give in to his temper in his youth, age had taught him restraint.

He'd had time to muse over several theories, the prevalent of which took into account the common belief death in Soul Society would lead to reincarnation into the other world. With that it mind it was possible for a Soul to have passed several times through Soul Society, each time being reborn into a clean slate as an infant. For the longest time, visions of Shinigami and flashing swords had left Ichigo wondering if his soul's last stint in Soul Society hadn't been forgotten entirely.

But…would his vision Shinigami call him Ichigo? What were the odds he'd be named the same thing in two different lifetimes?

Ichigo couldn't exactly make himself believe in that big a coincidence. Didn't exactly have the luxury to pick the easiest answer when visions had a disturbing habit of showing him some sort of battlefield—usually never the same one twice.

In the meantime Ichigo would take extra care to stay away from any and all Shinigami. A troubling number of visions showed him either fighting alongside or against Shinigami. He wasn't trusting enough to hail the closest Shinigami and ask who won that conflict.

The soundest resolution he'd settled on was finding a soul that was older than 121 years, the span of his mortal life. It was with mixed pleasure he'd realized most of his visions involved people with strong reiatsu. Dangerous people to seek out but certainly capable of having lived long enough to ask.

In the end Ichigo could only decide on one person to seek out, one who was 'safe' relatively speaking.

_She twisted in midair, blond hair whipping around her face, its stands having come undone from her usual binds._

"_Like Hirako said, we are Kin. We are Vizard, you dumbass."_

_Her fanged grin dared him to naysay her, the sword at her side more than ready to continue beating the lesson into his skull._

_He merely scowled. They were alike, alright._

_Ichigo wasn't thick enough not to have realized he had a tendency to beat a lesson into his opponent head before he'd even consider talking it out. _

_He'd cringed the first time Kensei Muguruma had suggested the blond she-devil Hiyori and he were alike._

The Vizard, Ichigo repeated to himself. The word reverberated throughout his very being before settling into a corner of his mind Ichigo could have sworn had always known the word and what it meant. Known it so intimately as to have come to both curse and praise the word at different intervals.

The Vizard…

**S**

"I'm going to make you eat your words!" Ichigo roared, feet lightly touching the ground before his body was in motion again.

A twist of his hips and a tilt of his back smoothly avoided the downturn swing of a dagger that looked entirely too unclean for Ichigo do even think of having it slice his skin.

'_So much for keeping a low profile.' _His mind muttered sleepily. A tat strange considering Ichigo was as awake as he would likely get. Death had certainly turned the world upside down if now even his inner voices were developing personalities and habits.

Days were hard to count when one took to wandering the outskirts of Soul Society. Never too close to the more respectable parts of Rukongai—too many Shinigami and those that would whisper in their ears.

_He grunted, shoulder bleeding heavily. Ichigo refused to even consider defeat. Too much was at stake._

_His opponent—a Shinigami—merely laughed. Like a dog shaking off a daze, his scarred opponent shook back long spiked hair, smooth beats tinkling softly as they slid against each other._

_Ichigo was perversely glad to see the man's white haori slashed and stained with his own blood. Though he was not as comforted to see the Shinigami just as happy to see the evidence of Ichigo's resistance._

_There was entirely a little too much battle-lust in those eyes, Ichigo thought rather bleakly._

There were depressingly few people Ichigo felt he could trust, to actually admit he had memories of another time. Of being a soldier in a war and fighting with power that half-terrified him and half-fascinated him.

Already he had uncovered rumors of war fought over a century ago. A war that made the apprehension grow tightly and bitterly in his bones.

_**The Arrancar War.**_

As a wanderer there were precious few distractions Ichigo could look forward long-term. As a consequence he was left to brood over half-remembered memories. Karin had always said he had a remarkable talent for brooding.

And with every second spent fitting together a jigsaw of impressions and remembered conversations, Ichigo dusted a little more knowledge of the final picture.

But in the meantime Ichigo wandered. His youth and temper making him a tempting target, his fists and legs making him a rather bad memory for many.

And again his elbow flew, aimed just under his opponents ribs, titled upward for the maximum impact. Pummeling fools was hardly a novel experience for him, but still….he could not help but wonder why his hands felt strangely bereft.

He'd never been in the habit of practicing with any sort of pole-arm or sword.

His opponent twitched once but did not get up again, successfully knocked out by a boy a fraction of his weight and half his height.

"My hair is not FUNNY!" Ichigo hissed for good-measure at the idiot who'd incited his ire. The last time he'd been this small, a walking-talking open invitation for heckling, he'd been rather pathetic of making anyone take back their comments. This time around, Ichigo was finding it rather satisfying to act like a kid and make his teasers recant.

_He was a brother too; an older brother as well. _

_And that was all that was needed for Ichigo to vow to bash some sense into his arrogantly blank face. _

_He'd make him remember what it meant to have a little sister, even if Ichigo had to pull every last tooth from his stone-faced mug._

The visions at least weren't making him lose control. That didn't mean there weren't times when Ichigo didn't have to move _fast _to avoid the High Thugs (reiatsu-trained soldiers).

In the meantime Ichigo kept moving, sometimes stealing a piece of food and other times honestly working for his fare. Remarkably adept hands always ghosting over his opponents weapons—daggers, knives, swords and even a glaive. But always retreating.

His hands longed for a weapon to wield and his soul murmured to him.

And still he wandered, drifting from alleys to marketplaces, bunking in fields or abandoned buildings. But always wandering…

And one day he saw her.

She was bundled in a simple tan cloak, startling orange boots peaking out from the hem. She was smiling merrily, bright green hair bound by goggles and hands weight down with shopping bags.

An amateur thief would have laughed at the easy picture she presented but Ichigo knew better. A blade rested comfortably in the hollow of her back. With a whisper Ichigo _knew _the blade would be released and the girl would _dance—so very gracefully_, his mind whispered.

"_I'm Machiro." The girl waved excitedly._

_Ichigo would have eyed her askance if the circumstances behind their meeting hadn't driven such terror into him; terror he wouldn't even admit to the only people that could help him._

He ghosted her trail for two days, watching as she went unhesitantly from shopkeeper to shopkeeper, stocking up on a wild array of items. And he continued following her as she headed out past District 75 and even 80 as she traveled into the Wilder Lands.

And one day they were finally far enough away for her to put down her bags and draw her blade. That was when Ichigo finally knew the game they'd been playing at was over.

"Now, now." She called out, disturbingly happy. "It isn't nice to play hide-and-seek and not tell me. Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

Ichigo did what was perhaps the most foolish thing he'd done yet. He met her face on, unarmed and quite possibly out-skilled.

But it was her that did the strangest thing of either of them. Tensed arms unconsciously lowered her blade as she squeaked in surprise. Grinning widely at him, Ichigo only had a second to flinch before he was glomped.

"Kawaii!!!" She celebrated. "It's a chibi Berry-tan!"

In her arms, Ichigo twitched.

It was Machiro, alright.

"_We are Kin."_ Different people murmured, their image overlapping. _"We are Vizard."_

He'd finally found the Vizard.

**S**

"Dismissed." Captain Yamamoto signaled curtly.

Most of the Shinigami captains left quickly, having wasted the better part of the day just bringing the meeting into some semblance of order.

It wasn't surprising so many fierce personalities would clash when brought into close proximity; even worse when those personalities were captain-level Shinigami. There'd yet to be a meeting in Shinigami history that hadn't degenerated at least once to blows.

As the Shinigami exited the hall, more than a few threw Yamamoto-taichou lingering looks. Some held concern while others held calculations.

Hitsugaya Toshiro, captain of 10th Division, took special note of the faces of his colleagues. Now was the best time to gauge what the future might bring.

Giving his own assessing look at Yamamoto-taichou, cool green-eyes were quick to note the presence of Unohana-taichou at his side. He didn't miss the odd crinkle in her forehead or how her eyes remained troubled.

As he walked back to his division headquarters, the presence of his lieutenant materialized besides him. Only years of control prevented him from jumping. He refused to admit just how much that habit of Matsumoto Rangiku annoyed him.

"Everyone manage to walk-away from this one?" Rangiku asked, well aware of how quickly the captains' meeting could escalate into a brawl.

"This time." Hitsugaya nodded sharply. That was the last thing he would say till they were back at the heart of their division headquarters.

Rangiku understood that well enough and filled the silence with meaningless chatter.

"How was he?" She finally asked in the privacy of their domain.

Hitsugaya refused to sigh. "He isn't improving anymore."

"They say not even his own division sees Yamamoto-taichou anymore." Rangiku mused, hand fiddling with her necklace.

"He's given us more than enough time to settle Soul Society after the Arrancar War. He was already old when the war began. The responsibility given him following the Chamber massacre has only hastened his end. "

"But we haven't settled anything, have we?" She said, well aware her captain knew that better than anyone. "We won only to fester in our own politics."

"Hai. I think he knows we cannot rely on him anymore; he is waiting for us to unite ourselves."

Rangiku knew better than to laugh. The Captains could barely hold a meeting, it was hard to imagine them holding Seireitei together. "Seireitei itself is a battle that will be hard fought."

"And while we settle our internal politics, the rest of Soul Society drifts away from us. The Vizard, the Rebel Arrancar, the ryokas' human descendents, the Quincy, the remaining Bount, the Shiba House, a host of exile Shinigami…they are allies bound only by an uneasy truce, if that. Had we never found an accord then Aizen might have very well become the god he wanted."

Rangiku sighed, breasts propped impressively as they were pressed against her desk. A mischievous part of her was disappointed when Hitsugaya showed no reaction. It made her miss the days when he'd been newly appointed. It was so much easier back then to make him twitch.

"But they have never fought under Seireitei's banner. It wasn't the Shinigami themselves that convinced them just how much of a mess Aizen would have turned every dimension into."

Hitsugaya merely nodded, aware of just whose name was silently considered.

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

Substitute Shinigami and Hero of the Arrancar War. Famous for inciting people to either help him or kill him—many could claim to having tried both at one time or another. Some with regular frequency.

And equally infamous among the higher ranks of the Shinigami for disappearing shortly after his eighteenth birthday. Kurosaki's human friends were obviously well aware of what became of the boy but they were extremely determined to keep the knowledge from the Shinigami representatives. And with little to any knowledge of just how the real world worked they'd never had much of a chance of finding him. Disappearing at the end of the Arrancar War hadn't exactly allowed Soul Society to dedicate any resources to a Shinigami that wasn't even obliged to follow them if he didn't want to.

"Seireitei needs all the allies it can get if it is to weather the coming change. Yamamoto-taichou can only hold on for so long."

And really that was the crux of the matter. Yamamoto-taichou had lived thousands of years, had guided Seireitei into what it is today. And it could all very well crumble if Seireitei as a whole didn't prove to be stronger than one man.

Somehow, Hitsugaya doubted Kurosaki would save them this time. It'd been more than a century since anyone had seen him. Many of those that knew him had postulated that the boy, having died, was reincarnated immediately, bypassing Soul Society entirely.

Seireitei needed to save itself this time.

**S**

"…_my name is…"_

"_Your zapankuto…"_

"…_wield me…"_

"…_name…"_

"…_call my name…"_

"…_name….ICHIGO! Call my…"_

_"My name….ZAN…SU!"_

_"Call my name…"_

_"ZAN…."_

_"….almost."_

**S**

**TBC…**

**AN: Hope the story is shaping up. I am somewhat disappointed so few people have read it and reviewed it. This chapter basically outlines the premise of the rest of the story.**


	5. Chapter 5

**S**

_The wind was cold. Bitter in a way that had nothing to do with nature and everything to do with the future._

"_Hey…promise me something." A red-haired Shinigami began, sealed zapakuto resting at his side. _

"_What?" His companion asked, orange-hair wet with sweat. The two Shinigami had been going through some basic blade techniques, something he desperately needed to improve._

"_Promise me…that when this is over we'll go bar-crawling in Rukongai with Ikkaku."_

_Both knew what the red-haired man—Renji—was really asking._

"_I'll promise if you do."_

"_I promise."_

"_Me too. You're paying."_

_Renji laughed shortly, more comforted than he wanted to admit by the boy's words. _

**S**

Hiyori would reluctantly admit she'd become used to the excited babble Machiro was prone to. Had Hiyori been in the habit of appreciating the sweeter things in life she would have eventually come to appreciate the girl's bright nature.

But she wasn't.

Hiyori's sweeter side had been beaten into submission even before any of the Vizard had met her. By the time she came into the lives of the rest of the Vizard she was already a sharp-witted, suspicious soul with a disturbing attachment to rendering those that opposed her a mess.

Still that wasn't the biggest reason why Machiro went into Rukongai to buy supplies. Hiyori would freely admit Machiro's harmless front allowed the green-haired girl to overhear a great deal more than any easy gossiper would have released in Hiyori's presence.

"Hiyori-chan! Hiyori-chan!" Machiro's loud yelps met Hiyori's ears even before the girl came into sight. "Guess who I found?"

Machiro sounded ridiculously proud. Kensei, who'd been sharing a lunch with the blond woman, merely sighed. Both Vizards privately hoped Machiro wasn't bringing another stray animal. There were enough mongrels running about the compound as it was.

_It was worse_, Hiyori thought, as a thin child trailed Machiro. _She finally brought a human._

"What have I told you about bringing in strays?" Hiyori asked somewhat bleakly. The child had a sullen look about him, shaggy bright hair—who some might call orange in the right light—framing a face that looked thin from a life spend in flux. Simple faded clothes covered the boy, a worn pack slung over his shoulder.

_Trouble_, Kensei and Hiyori thought simultaneously for no reason other than how the child carried himself.

"No! No!" Machiro babbled. "It's a chibi Berry-tan! He's come back to play!"

"Berry…what?" Hiyori had also become used to muddling through Machiro's nicknames. But this one… she hadn't heard this one in years.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." Kensei finally said dryly. He'd always been better at keeping facts clear in his head.

"That idiot?" Hiyori said, entirely unimpressed by the random name. She still wasn't all that sure what a boy lost a century before and a wandering child had to do with each other.

If anything the boy scowled more fiercely.

"No," Machiro laughed. "_This _is Berry-tan. He's become a little one."

It was strange, Hiyori mused. She understood every word coming out of the other woman's mouth. She just didn't seem able to comprehend what it meant when they were all strung together.

"Ichigo?" Kensei asked the boy, completely unfazed.

The boy twitched, dirty hair shifting just enough to reveal an orange that none of them had ever quite found anywhere else.

"Yeah…" The boy drawled.

"You're younger than I expected." Kensei noted. "In fact, younger than I remember seeing you last."

"I didn't make the afterlife." Ichigo protested. "I just woke up like this."

For a moment Kensei seemed puzzled before an odd understanding filtered over his features. "If you can still remember, do you mind me asking how old you were when you died in the real world?"

The boy was silent as he mulled over the question. Seeing no harm in it, he answered. "I was 121 years old."

Kensei merely nodded, as he had expected as much. "Your arrival in Soul Society has been much expected though you took longer than we foresaw."

The boy blinked in confusion. "Are you…Kensei Muguruma?"

"Yes."

Turning the child looked at Hiyori, mouth twisting as he tried to find name for the blond woman. "Aaa…She-Devil?"

Hiyori twitched, hand automatically going to her zapankuto. And life a bucket of ice-cold water she realized something.

"Where's your zapankuto?"

And the boy had the audacity to frown. "My…what?"

In the stunned silence, Machiro laughed. "Berry-tan hasn't remembered everything."

"You _have _got to be kidding." Hiyori half-swore, half-laughed.

One of the most feared warrior to grace the Arrancar battlefields and he couldn't even remember the name of his zapankuto…

It was ridiculous.

**S**

"Kuchiki-sama." The short, brown-haired woman greeted.

Kuchiki Rukia paused her stride down the hospital corridor. In the years since Rukia had been a girl with more respect for her superiors than common sense she had changed into a strong woman, admired by many from among the ranks of the Gotei 13.

It was therefore a miracle as watched as she was no one had noticed her extreme aversion to the hospital. As it was only her respect for her captain forced her to enter the hated building for an annual check-up.

Her aversion was a secret from even her closest friends in no small part due to her rather embarrassing reasoning. Rukia wouldn't admit to anyone but herself that the reason she avoided the hospital was because of one particular Shinigami.

"Kurosaki-san." Rukia returned, gaze shifting uneasily away from the woman in front of her. This was the one Shinigami Rukia couldn't even talk to. A kind-hearted little healer from the Fourth Division, Kurosaki Yuzu.

Little Yuzu who'd died days before Ichigo had disappeared from their radar, taking with him a girl with a strong reiatsu herself, his sister Karin. Yuzu who Rukia knew had instigated Ichigo's break from Soul Society. All of which Rukia had never even thought to blame on her. Still, it did not make it any easier when concerned brown eyes locked on to hers.

_Ichigo's eyes_, she thought not for the first time.

A great deal of Arrancar veterans found it a little trying to look into Kurosaki's eyes though Rukia possessed the greatest phobia. The Arrancar war had been like nothing else she'd seen…

In terms of length it wasn't even that long on paper but in truth it had been an eternity. The winter the campaign had been predicted came about as expected, bloody and desperate. It only got worse from there. And amidst their terrible loses and battles that never seemed to be won there had been heroes, men and women whose blades sang a song of endurance.

_They say the wind howled when the Living Shinigami stepped on the battle-plains._

"Excuse me." Rukia nodded.

Yuzu bowed shortly. Both women separating with hardly a word.

It wasn't the same; _they_ weren't the same.

_A century past and sleepless nights worrying about a coming war. Watching over two girls and telling herself that would not be their fate, an end that was worse than death because it was oblivion._

Yuzu was no longer the smiling living girl that offered her home to Ichigo's friend without a care. No longer the little girl that cuddled Kon in lieu of her wandering brother.

It was something Rukia couldn't always stand to be reminded of. Not since the day so many years ago when Renji—_who carried memories so much more heavier—_had come back from a night of bar crawling with a young girl in his arms. Renji had taken the girl to the Academy, her kind brown eyes merely smiling in pleasure when he named her Kurosaki Yuzu.

Yuzu—_who'd already forgotten the living world_—had merely been happy to be named, even if she would always think her name the result of a war veteran's admiration for one of the greatest heroes of the days of Arrancar.

Yuzu never did figure out who gave her a small plush bear a week after her enrollment in the Academy. But she slept soundly that night and every other night she held the bear in her arms.

**S**

_The winds burned everything they touched, heavy with the stench of blood and rage._

"…We never knew everything, of course, only that one of us—Kin—had been made and remade. Eventually we tracked you to Karakura Town, to your home, and we offered you a place among us…"

_He didn't know why in the beginning. Why he fought and fell, only to stand up again and fight anew._

_They used to wonder about that; admired but never understood the sheer determination and pig-headedness that kept him standing even when common sense said to stay down._

"…And then the Arrancar attacks began. They were strong, had been the strongest of their kind even before they became Arrancar. So yes, you and your Shinigami companions struggled.

"You were strong, strong despite being as inexperienced as you truly were but in the end that was not enough. So you came looking for us, to control the part of your soul you kept denying…"

_It was odd. Their strange duality. _

_And when finally they became One, could become something other than alone—the air itself sang with power._

_And he, who'd spend so much time running from shadows that touched souls and left bodies' intact, stopped running. Stayed and finally reached for terrors that made him shy from his Other._

_He should have known._

_He could never run from himself._

"…We'd all known the winter would be dark. And it was. Aizen's forces struck again and again, sometimes they had a purpose and sometimes it was for no other reason than to torture who ever he set his eyes on…"

_Grief ate their minds and shadowed their hearts. Every victory tainted, lost before it was won._

_He knew he had finally lost when he woke with blood in his face, heart racing, and a sword that was stained redredredred. And he didn't even know why._

_Don't…_

"…then came the attacks on the living world. Fast and hard, never giving any patrolling Shinigami more than a second before they were overwhelmed."

_Don't…_

"We all suspected Aizen was building a prelude to something. The amount of human souls being culled was overwhelming…"

_Please. Don't…_

"Rukongai was next. The isolated upper districts were hit first. Seireitei was completely unaware, would have remained so, if not for the fact that one of the blitz ghosted near the edge of the territory the Vizard had claimed for our own. So we went looking for you…"

_Don't…_

_And they cried when no one could hear them. _

"…It was a perversity, worse than anything Seireitei's labs could have dreamt. They were once souls… but by the time they were sent against us on the battlefield they were worse than beasts. Pure power twisted and tortured till it was nothing more than rage and instinct. You called them Akaryouken…"

_Don't…_

_Don't make me REMEMBER!_

"They…they were stronger than anything we'd faced. And before them the only thing we could do was retreat. We nearly lost hope then, worse when the Living Shinigami—you—disappeared.

"It was a strange time; Aizen retreated into his stronghold and the rest of us tried to heal wounds that had never gotten the chance to. Eventually rumors came that Hueco Mundo was warring with itself. It was far too good to be true but you always did have a habit of getting your way, Ichigo.

Three weeks after you disappeared you brought word of a group of Rebel Arrancar at the border of Hueco Mundo. A fraction of Aizen's Arrancar had found his rule disagreeable; they split from them and rather than wait to be hunted one by one because of their disloyalty, you convinced them—"

_Please…_

"That is enough Lisa." Hirako Shinji interrupted, his shadow stretching out from besides the screen door he'd pushed open. Machiro, Kensei, Hiyori, Lisa and Ichigo glanced at him, momentary tense postures the only clue they'd been startled. "Night has come and little boys shouldn't miss their bedtime."

Shinji's annoying smile taunted the child Ichigo and the orange-haired boy glared sullenly at the newcomer. "Machiro, find a nursery for our newest addition."

The green-haired woman shrugged, easily dragging a sputtering boy behind her. "You need a bath, Berry-tan!"

Shinji didn't lose his impenetrable smile as he gazed darkly at the remaining Vizard.

"What exactly possessed you to tell Ichigo any of that?" He asked without a care, the very fact setting his fellow Vizard on edge. Shinji rarely got angry but when he did…

"It is his history." Kensei said, careful eyes the only sign he was watching Shinji more closely than usual. "The boy has never been fated for a quiet life. Better he know his history now than when least appropriate."

Shinji's smile widened, sharp teeth barring a displeasure he still would not show. "And what do you expect him to do as he is now? A child, newly arrived, that doesn't even know the name of his Soul Slayer?"

The Vizard shifted uncomfortably.

"You speak of horrible times and heavy burdens to a _boy_. Not the Living Shinigami, not the Vizard Kurosaki Ichigo. Did you forget? When the last sword fell silent, Ichigo sealed himself away from his memories. He deliberately forgot all his joys and pains for a reason. He who would have willingly _died _or worse for any one of his companions, given everything he was for them. And still he walked away…"

Shinji paused, his angry silence saying all the things he would not unleash. But he continued as calmly as before, words now heavy with authority. "Do not speak of this tale again to Ichigo unless he asks you specifically. We will not hide anything from one who has earned the right to know the truth but neither will any of you forget exactly who he is _now_—a child. A boy who does not need to know how ugly war could be and how much it would cost to win."

With that Shinji turned, too angry to stay in the same room as his fellow Vizard.

Because Shinji remembered even if Ichigo didn't. Remembered the days when he practically traced every step the orange-haired Shinigami took and the ugly knowledge that build with every swing of the blade.

Even back then Shinji had known enough to sometimes see behind the mask Ichigo had worn. And he'd seen something of the darkness that lashed the Living Shinigami and in turn ate the very same bitterness, letting it settle in his in his soul.

_Please don't…_Ichigo's soul had cried out to Shinji.

Shinji had followed Ichigo in days when the sun had never risen. He could not deny his plea now…

_Don't make me remember…_

Shinji couldn't protect Ichigo from memories that were already waking. It didn't mean he had to encourage their rebirth.

It was only a matter of time…

**S**

Ichigo didn't want to admit it but he was actually grateful to the annoying smiling idiot for interrupting.

There had been memories, so very terrible, stirring.

And he'd been afraid.

It was only a matter of time before he remembered what had been so terrible that it made him shy away even now when he could scarcely remember anything.

So little time left…

**S**

"_We…" There was a duality in their voice, the sign of their nature. "We call you…"_

_White arms twined around his own, blindingly bright hair falling loose and twining with his own shaggy orange hair._

"…_together again, my King." One whispered to the other._

_This was completion. Peace in no longer denying half his soul. _

"_Never alone." Ichigo promised._

"_We know you…"_

"…_never bowing, never retreating." His Other continued._

"_We wield you…"_

"_Never falling, never lacking."_

"_We name you…_

"_Never bending. We are…"_

"_We call you…"_

"_We call you, ZANGETSU!"_

_And they were whole. Mind riddled with more holes than answers and body ridiculously young. But they were whole. _

_Soon, they would remember…_

_They would know._

_It was only a matter of time._

**S**

**A/N: Well I have a habit of figuring out where the story is going a few chapters in. The good thing is now I know. This story won't focus so much on the War as in the aftermath.**


	6. Chapter 6

**S**

_He skidded back, zanpakuto thrust to the side for balance and knee digging painfully into the rubble bellow. _

_He wasn't sure what happened._

_One moment his blade was flush against one of the Arrancar's own, brown eyes horrified and wide as they caught sight of the silver swing of the Arrancar's companion. And all he knew was he wasn't going to be fast enough to stop it. _

_A second later he was skidding away, shoulder aching the only sign something had pushed him away. And with something like dread he starred at the scene in front of him. Another familiar zanpakuto had clashed with the killing blade but that did nothing to stop the one Ichigo had been holding off. Cruel edge bit into the arm of the Shinigami, red hair indistinguishable from the stain growing._

_So much RedRedRed... _

_Ichigo could only scream as he dashed forward intent on making something _right_. Anything at all to fix the fact the second Arrancar completely severed the appendage holding his blade back. _

_Idiot Renji, being stupid enough to save Ichigo's life._

"_RETREAT!" Renji screamed raggedly, bleeding heavily from his stump. "Hirako! Take Ichigo!"_

_Ichigo was slammed back as the Vizard grabbed hold of him, spinning as he forced the Living Shinigami to halt._

"_RENJI!"_

_Red hair was swallowed up and Ichigo lost sight of his friend._

"_Renji…" He whispered brokenly._

"That is enough." His Other said sharply, voice at odds with gentle arms that effulged the trembling boy, his face burrowed in shaking knees.

Calm dark eyes merely observed. Zangetsu extended a lanky hand and settle it over wild orange-hair. "You cannot protect him, not from this. We are only as strong as he is."

The Hallow said nothing as he tightened his arms around the child. "And I will not let this break him. We will be Whole again and nothing, not even nightmares will stop that."

_If you hummed loud enough maybe you wouldn't hear them scream. If you closed your eyes tightly enough maybe you wouldn't see them fall. If you hide yourself deep enough maybe it won't be real._

_So wake up soon…_

**S**

"Machiro!" A child squealed half-indignantly half-laughing.

A second later an angry bellow echoed through the Vizard compound. "MACHIRO! ICHIGO!"

Machiro dashed toward a still stationary Ichigo and pulled the young boy along, his protests left behind.

"But I didn't do anything." The child whined.

"Told her you did, Berry-tan!" Machiro screamed back.

Hirako smile only widened amusement only increasing at how vaguely disgruntled Kensai looked. It was amazing how much bedlam would spring in the wake of one child and the lengths some of the most serious people Hirako knew would go to keep him entertained.

A second later a thoughtfully soaked Hiyori thundered by, her war cry only surpassed by Ichigo's laughter as Machiro took the child and flash-stepped away. Hirako merely smiled.

Both women were more than capable of leveling a great portion of the Compound had they wanted. Yet they restricted themselves to simple physical activity and flash-step at the most. The fact that Hiyori had allowed herself to fall for such a simple trick was more of a testament on how worried they were all becoming.

"He's very…energetic." Kensai commented, fingers flipping a stone from their board game.

"Quite." Hirako hummed.

They were all worried. Worried enough for even grumpy Hiyori to abandon precious dignity and do everything to exhaust one twelve year old boy. A boy that was growing increasingly pale and haggard, not even denying accusations that he wasn't sleeping anymore.

Of them all Hirako had the best idea of what kind of demons chased dreams and it made something twinge in him to see those familiar shadows reflected in brown eyes. Hirako did the same thing he always did, smiling even wider to hide how frustrated he was.

_This _Ichigo wasn't the same boy from a century before, not the same Vizard that Hirako had fought besides against dark odds. Not his battle companion. This boy was a curious mix of his previous incarnation, the old man he lived long enough to be, and a child.

And Hirako could only hope that would be enough to help Ichigo face his nightmares.

**S**

The man was a Lesser Noble; expensive robes did not hide the fact from observant eyes that his sandals were of cheap material. A man in get-up that was made to impress and nothing else. And still he looked like a poor imitation of the man besides him who was dressed in simple but fine clothes, iridescent white scarf worth more than anything the Lesser Noble could compare.

And Hitsugaya Toshiro watched.

Gracefully the lesser noble bowed to Captain Kuchiki Byakuya before retreating from the Kuchiki Gardens.

The captain, Head of one of Seireitei's most Noble Clans did not move from his spot, calm stone features gazing out into the beautiful grounds.

"I didn't believe I would bear watching, Hitsugaya." Captain Kuchiki murmured to the Shinigami hidden from his sight.

With a step Hitsugaya flashed to stand beside the other captain, not at all perturbed at having been called out.

"Is he offering promises or threats?" Hitsugaya wondered after the absent Lesser Noble.

Kuchiki did not look at his guest. "It is not relevant. Neither will sway my decision."

"So it is true…"

Kuchiki said nothing, deeming the silence more than enough.

"In the pool for an Heir you are Yamamoto's most logical successor. Everyone else either hasn't held tenure long enough or has a dubious history. You on the other hand have held much the same standard and beliefs as the General."

"General Yamamoto and I are very much alike." Kuchiki agreed. "And that is precisely why I will not succeed the General of the Gotei 13."

Hitsugaya eyed the captain curiously but Kuchiki Byakuya did not explain. He remembered well enough…

_A fool who held promises and rules above the life of a sister. It was a mockery of every dream sacrificed in the name of duty_

_Never…._

_They betrayed what they were on the order of ghosts. Seireitei tore itself apart._

_Never again._

"Recall your shadows Hitsugaya. I will not succeed the General."

Green eyes were sharp as they studied the noble. After a moment the white-haired captain bowed his agreement.

"I am Captain of Division 10; I protect Seireitei." He explained, not at all apologetic about the men he'd assigned to watch the noble.

"As to I…"

Byakuya remained standing as the younger captain disappeared.

"…and that is why I will not hold Seireitei close enough to break."

He couldn't. Couldn't be another General of the same ilk who nearly destroyed everything in the name of rules only dead men would honor.

"_She is your sister!" A boy had screamed at him, intent of proving the truth of the words._

_And he hadn't believed that was enough to balance out the rules he'd sworn himself to._

Forgive me, Rukia…

…I did not believe.

I was wrong.

**S**

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Ichigo yelped as he flapped his hand, glaring sullenly at Hiyori. "What was that for?!"

"Idiot." Hiyori snapped as she circled the boy. "I corrected your stance already, you should know better than to fall back on bad habits."

"I survived, didn't I?" Ichigo muttered at the She-Devil.

Hiyori would have sagged in relief at the boy finally making even the vaguest reference to the war if it wouldn't have ruined what little dignity that'd survived Ichigo. That didn't mean she was deaf.

"And it remains a complete miracle as do how you did in the first place. A Shinigami Academy Student knows more than you ever did."

"I could take them." Ichigo retorted.

"Of that I have no doubt." She dryly admitted. "And the only reason would be because you are faster, not because you are any better. Your form is terrible, your techniques basic. Just because you are naturally more powerful than your opponents is no reason to be a piss-poor swordsman. Now…pick up your practice blade again.

"From the beginning."

For a moment it looked like the boy would protest, rebellious eyes darkening till their light was nothing but an ember.

"_How are you?" Ichigo asked, cursing himself for being such an idiot. He could not have asked anything lamer._

"_Oh you know, just resting. Couldn't keep letting you get all the glory. So…you think they'll write a song about me?" Renji mused, his arm bandaged just bellow the elbow._

_Guilt bit his chest. It wasn't fair. Renji shouldn't have had to lose an arm just to save Ichigo._

"_Yeah right." Ichigo scorned as both Shinigami pretended he hadn't sounded so strained._

_Renji snorted. "Don't get too comfortable. I'll be out of here before you know it and back to kicking your ass."_

"_Like you could." And Ichigo would even willingly fight Zaraki Kenpachi if it God granted him his wish._

"From the beginning." Ichigo repeated, sliding into a perfect stance.

Hiyori hummed but didn't question the boy. "Begin."

**S**

Dinner was a noisy affair. Too many strong personalities and too few drumsticks.

"That's mine you little brat!" Hiyori yelled, narrowly missing the disappearing meat that popped into Ichigo's mouth.

Full cheeks grinned back impishly. "Should have…been…faster."

"Aww…Berry-tan's a growing boy." Machiro said, shoving some greens into a surprised Ichigo. The boy scowled as he automatically swallowed. "Eat up."

Hiyori was entirely too smug as she watched the boy squirm from a persistent Machiro who attempted to force feed him.

"Love should be returning tomorrow with his group." Lisa commented during a lull.

Ichigo looked up with interest, resigningly working through a plate of greens.

Hirako explained, "Though some Vizards deliberately choose their path a great deal are born through accidents. They eventually make their way to us, one way or another. We train them to control the Hollow within less they become lost to it.

"Love and Rose escorted our newest additions out into the dunes to practice their release."

Ichigo blinked in wonderment.

None of them knew quite how much the boy remembered. While it was true he'd remembered most of their names (even if he stumbled somewhat) it had been unclear whether he'd realized some of their number were missing from the Compound.

"When they return you will join them." Hirako smiled at the boy, ignoring how the boy grimaced back. "It's a good group, the oldest used to be a Shinigami but the youngest is a girl from Rukongai who had the ill luck of being the first meal of a weak Hallow. She won."

Hirako continued to watch the young boy, noting how the news made him quiet with a far off look in his eyes.

"Have you called your zanpakuto?

The simple question abruptly silenced the surrounding conversation. Ichigo didn't answer for a long moment. But finally he looked up and Hirako wasn't as surprised as he should have been to meet brown eyes old with knowledge learned a battlefield ago.

"Zangetsu is helping."

"I imagine he is." Hirako agreed, content to leave it at that.

Around the dining room table, the Vizard shifted uncomfortably in the awkward silence that followed.

"And Hachibi?" Machiro asked, happily blind to the discomfort.

"He will be here later this week." Lisa answered, not even looking up from the manga she pulled out from her sleeve.

"Hachibi's talents have always been more specialized. Occasionally one comes to us whose strengths are equally as rare." Hirako explained.

"_You'll _be training with the others." Hiyori taunted the boy.

Ichigo scowled at the blond Vizard, doing his best to ignore more than one indulgent smile. He'd always been adorable as a child.

**S**

She didn't mean to look. It had been an accident, sealed the moment she placed her supplies on the cluttered desk of her superior.

"What is the meaning of _this_?" Unohana Retsu hissed in a rare display of anger. Graceful fingers were splayed over the General's desk, her eyes locked on open documents.

"Control yourself, Unohana." Captain Yamamoto gravely chided, slow steps moving him from his office couch where he'd been napping and back to his desk. "I may be ill but do not forget whose authority you follow."

Lips pressed tightly as the Healer visibly swallowed angry words. "F-Forgive me, General, but I must protest this…this…_witch hunt._" She finished with a cursed whisper.

With a groan, Captain Yamamoto eased into his chair, withered hands carefully gathering the documents Unohana had accidentally spied on.

"I will do as I must to ensure the continued security of Seireitei."

"But…but…I implore you, General. Consider your course carefully. What possible crime could that girl, one of my own, have committed that threatened the very stability of Seireitei?"

Grave eyes studied the younger woman. "Enough Unohana, your duty is to Seireitei. I need not explain myself."

Unohana flushed, stiffly she bowed to Yamamoto. "As you command. I shall return tomorrow for your next checkup."

Yamamoto-buchou sighed, "Dismissed captain."

Unohana gathered her supplies as smoothly as possible, swallowing her turmoil.

"And Retsu?"

She paused, stilling under the use of her given name.

"Do not involve yourself further with this matter. This inquiry will determine the truth behind the woman known as Kurosaki Yuzu. You will abide by it."

Unohana left quickly after that. If she avoided Yuzu for nearly a week no one was the wiser.

**S**

"Love-sensei! There's another duckling for you!" Crowed a young man. The man was lanky and oddly feral, with a bright red band pulled to keep spiky brown hair from dark eyes.

At that the small group of people, ranging from a pig-tailed girl about two years older than Ichigo's current body to a gruff bearded man with narrow eyes and a Shinigami's uniform half hidden under a blue haori.

"Ah…more's the merrier." Love welcomed Hirako and a boy trailing in the former's shadow. He couldn't help but blink at the odd familiarity the boy inspired.

That was not all that was interesting about his newest pupil. It was odd to find a Vizard that young; their reiatsu generally wasn't strong enough to support their dual nature. As it was Takuya, the girl from Rukongai, was an oddity.

Frankly, Love had never expected to find such a young survivor and _he_ should know. A lifetime ago he had been one of the Division 12 scientists that had experimented on the Vizard phenomenon.

Rather than ponder a host of unanswered questions Love turned to their latest guest. The boy was young, having been physically no older than twelve but in terms of Rukongai age he was certainly younger than that.

Studying him it wasn't that much of mystery as to why the boy survived whatever event that made him into a Vizard. Even without trying Love could sense his reiatsu, muted in an odd way that spoke of something unusual. Possibly a remnant conflict still present in his soul.

The boy would have eventually been powerful; his potential had only increased as a Vizard, Love decided.

"A new student," Hirako smiled widely at Love's class. "Ichigo."

With a previously undiscovered shyness, Ichigo inched from behind Hirako. Warily he eyed the Vizard-in-training, only pausing as his eyes widened when he spied a familiar Love and Rose. With a stiff politeness Ichigo bowed in greeting, orange-hair flaring under the still bright sun.

With a jerk of his head Love turned incredulous eyes on Hirako. His eyes remained locked on his fellow Vizard as he spoke, "Ichigo was it? Perhaps the rest would introduce themselves."

Curved eyes only crinkled more, Hirako confirming the identity of the boy.

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

"Most welcomed." Rose murmured from besides Love.

"Indeed."

And Love watched, oblivious to Hirako's departure, as Ichigo ventured further into their little group. Six students, half of which probably wouldn't survive their final test against their Hollow.

And Kurosaki Ichigo.

"Let's not tarry." Rose murmured as only he could, immediately silencing the rag-tag group. "We will practice zanpakuto manifestation."

And Love watched as silent towering Takashi comfortably moved to stand at Ichigo's shoulder and too young Takuya hovered uncertainly in the boy's sphere. He couldn't help but think history was repeating itself. A sullen teenager, Kurosaki Ichigo had been remarkably adept at surrounding himself with extraordinary and powerful people. After all, Hirako had at one time followed the boy Vizard.

"Manifestation, the physical form your reiatsu takes must be controlled." Rose intoned softly, drumming the words as only he could into their students. "Too much reiatsu and your zanpakuto will be a blade as tall as a tower and as weak as butter. Too little and the zanpakuto won't even manifest and you'll be thrown back by the dissipating energy—"

On cue Sanada Asami flared bright blue before he skidded back.

"Again, Sanada." Love instructed one eye still on their newest arrival.

The boy remained the quietest of them all, oddly contrasting to his previous incarnation. Eyes closed and frowning, Ichigo held his hands pressed together almost as if he was praying. And then everyone stilled, wild reiatsu lashing the very air, danger born in the unnamed power and potential inherit in it.

It was powerful, Love surmised, but still too unfocused to be a threat to even one of his rank. But given training…

"Zangetsu!" The boy cried, eyes still pressed shut.

Blue lightning and silver steel, a legendary zanpakuto as tall as its wielder. Wicked edge and reformed, it gleamed in the sunlight unsealed as it was always rumored to be. But it…it was different, Love noted with surprise. A precedent he acknowledged but the situation itself was a rarity. A living boy who became Shinigami and unmade his power, only to die and wield it once more.

It still had the unflattering resemblance to an oversized kitchen knife. Though that wasn't where it ended now; etched all along the blade were writing or runes of a sort, silver against the dark edge of the blade. The boy gripped the hiltless pommel and the runes flared silver-blue before settling.

"Well done." Love congratulated, not as surprised as he should have been. He was only the second in the batch of students to name their zanpakuto but Love had a feeling he would not be the last.

Such a powerful boy…

**S**

"Zangetsu?"

"Hm?"

"Was it all true?"

"…_we are only as powerful as he is…"_

"…_We will be WHOLE!"_

"Yes."

"A-All of it?"

"Yes."

"Is…is there more?"

"Yes." Zangetsu confirmed. "Do not forget. You are not alone."

"Old man's right." Whispered his Other, winding around his King. "We will be Whole, Ichigo. Remember that."

**S**

**AN: Update is not as fast as I wanted but school, you know? So can't help it. Anyway, I sort of still wish for more Reviews cause honestly I'm getting a little discouraged. **

**On a personal note I keep wondering if someone I know or goes to my school reads this. Cause no one knows I write and if you didn't figure it out my other account has some relatively long stories.**

**Ciao **


	7. Chapter 7

**S**

The incantation was sound, the pronunciation perfect.

It began with a quick draw of power, worrisome in it strength. It only grew from there. More and more till it was a wild thing and lashing with a mind of its own.

"Ground it, Ichigo!"

The earth shook as it thundered with power, blinding and tossing anyone near enough.

**S**

It wasn't the first time Hirako Shinji had to comfort a distraught Vizard. Their life was not an easy one. Even for those that deliberately became Vizard, the reality of the situation was always different from even the most well-thought out expectations.

Ironically Vizards of circumstance usually took the change better. To change, sacrifice and will were tested; they were purged if they were found wanting. Kurosaki Ichigo won the first battle as a mortal boy.

Had never stopped fighting; against his enemies, against his darker impulses, against hopelessness. During the war it was sometimes all Hirako had to hold on to.

But it wasn't the time to think about the past. Memories like those didn't belong in the same sun-lit room as a boy stubbornly pretending he couldn't see the older Vizard reading next to him, waiting for the dam to break. Pretend he hadn't noticed him enter the library and pull out a book from the many shelves. Hadn't realized Hirako was there specifically to talk about the incident that very morning.

Hirako continued to smile as his keen ears picked up every impatient shift in the boy's posture. It was probably a good thing he was as familiar with Ichigo as he had been. Otherwise it might take just as long as the first time to talk some sense into the boy. As he recalled, Ichigo had always been remarkably adept at outlasting anyone's patience. If one didn't know how to talk to the boy, they would only irritate the orange-haired Vizard into foul-mouthed rage or stubborn silence.

And no one had ever been able to pry an unwilling secret from that stubborn child.  
The Arrancar had learned that the hard way.

"I…lost control." Ichigo muttered, resolutely starring at the same page he'd been looking at for the last half-hour.

Hirako nodded silently, never looking up from his book. Ichigo had never taken to sharing personal stuff very well either.

"And?"

He'd also had the odd habit of blaming everything on himself. Guilt and shame colored his voice, "And…I nearly blew the training building."

Hirako hummed softly, absentmindedly flipping a page in his book though he could not tell anyone a word of what he had just read. "You would not be the first one."

He waited till a curious orange-head titled up, guilt-ridden eyes half-hopeful and half-disbelieving. Hirako tilted his own head to meet brown eyes. "It's true, you know."

Ichigo snorted, looking away. "Bet you no one else in the Shinigami Academy came as close as I did to killing their entire class."

Hirako scoffed. "Since when were we Shinigami? We are Vizard—rarer, true, but in general more powerful in the beginning; harder to control our powers because their conflicting nature. So logically the training of those within our ranks will be more…reactive. Besides, since when did you listen to what anyone said much less what Sai said?"

Ichigo shrugged, looking away.

Hirako continued to wait, knowing that was not all that was troubling the boy.

"You…knew me from Before, right?"

Hirako nodded.

"So, was I always…this…uncontrollable?"

"You I fear have entirely too high a definition of what control means, Ichigo."

"Please Hirako. I nearly _blew up_ eight people because I couldn't control myself."

Hirako sighed, vaguely wondering if the boy would ever make anything easy. "It's not a comparison that can be done easily, Ichigo. The first time you were older and as baffling as it might seem you actually had more time that you did this time around to unlock your power; time enough to gradually built your control.

"This time you haven't had that nearly enough time to help you adjust—you've gone through technique after technique, learning as much as you can but even that is no substitute for time. This time around a great deal of your power, more than you ever had to handle last time as an inexperienced novice, is all unlocked. It's pushing you to use it as you once did, giving you knowledge and instincts that you aren't ready for.

"It is to be expected your techniques will be overpowered."

Ichigo was silent as he mulled over the words. "So I'll eventually learn control?"

"All things come with time." Hirako admitted.

The boy glared, sharp eyed as always. "So last time I never did."

"Well, Ichigo, last time you never finished your training." He protested weakly. "You were adamnent on staying with your friends rather than return with us and what training you could get was all found in the battle-field. In the end you simply ran out of time."

"So you _don't_ know if I'll ever learn control." Ichigo nettled.

"And neither do you." Hirako retorted back. "You're learning—properly for the first time. In terms of knowledge you have moved past your previous level—last time the demon arts were beyond you."

"But the demon arts are what started the whole thing." The boy pointed out. "I was trying to do one of the spells and instead I nearly blew everything up. And it was a _binding_ spell. How much worse would it have been if I had done something offensive like a fire spell?"

"That's the whole point, Ichigo. You didn't begin with a fire spell and you won't till you can control a binding spell. Don't expect perfection. It is common for students to take weeks to gather enough power for a binding spell but because you naturally possess a larger reservoir you'll be working from the other end of the spectrum. It will take you some time to control the amount of reiatsu you release."

The boy retreated back into his book. Glancing at Hirako from the corner of his eye, he shrugged. "If you say so."

Smiling, Hirako shook his head. Ichigo would never change.

**S**

"Get lost Sai." Takuya snapped, hands helpfully pushing the Vizard-in-training on his way.

Sai violently shrugged Takuya off, shaking back unfairly silky black hair. "My, my, little Takuya. There must be something in the air; you are usually never so…spirited.

Takuya's lips tightent, her body awkwardly planted in front of a stretching Ichigo and a bigger Sai. Takuya knew well enough what Sai was refereeing too. Meek little Takuya, just a silly girl that would probably lose the battle to her Hollow soon enough.

"I'm sure you were going to begin your own stretches, Sai. Love-sensei said we were going to spar today and I was so…hoping to go up against you." Takashi towered over them, interrupting the tense pair.

Sai openly let his face twist in distaste as the sight of the other Vizard-in-training, taking in his mesh of Shinigami clothes and blue haori.

"Another time Ichigo," Sai called back, knowing better than to continue after being so heavily outnumbered. "When your pet Shinigami isn't here to defend you and your little playmate."

Ichigo's face flushed angrily but the smaller boy didn't move stiff muscles. He wasn't afraid of the boy. He was afraid of what he would do to the boy.

"_I know hundreds of ways to kill arrogant little make-believe Vizards." _His Other whispered, bloodthirsty and unhindered by human restraint. _"I could teach you…"_

Ichigo would love to run at the bastard. Call Zangetsu and slide into steps from a dance that was as part of him as breathing. But he couldn't.

Sai stepped back, dark eyes that should have remained locked on the most visible threat—Takashi—never leaving Ichigo.

But Ichigo wasn't a little boy anymore or an idealistic teenager with too much power, not enough training, but will enough to make his way. He was also an old man who lived and loved, raised a family, and guided them in a world of his own making. He'd lived a life and paid his days in wisdom earned. As such he knew what Sai saw; what Sai feared.

Sai feared him.

Because Ichigo wasn't another miracle child that survived the Vizard transformation. Ichigo was powerful, too powerful. It wasn't enough for the older Vizards to glance at the orange-haired boy with familiarity and something like deference. It wasn't even enough for the boy to be the only one to call his zanpakuto by name. The boy had to show the destructive extent of his powers by mangling a binding spell so badly he nearly incinerated everyone around him when he released the power. Sai still had the bruises to prove it.

And Sai did not know how a child younger than him, less trained, less experienced could surpass him without even trying.

"Forget it." Ichigo muttered at his defenders sullenly. No one had ever had sense enough to fear him. Ichigo found he did not like the feeling at all.

Takuya hovered nervously next to him, her momentary courage having deserted her.

"Let's stretch." Ichigo prodded the girl.

The former Shinigami Takeshi didn't say anything as he moved to do his own stretches near them. Ichigo didn't have to see to know the ex-Shinigami would not stray far.

Though he was a tall imposing figure, Takeshi was a quiet man with a sad air much like Chad but for entirely different reasons.

Already Ichigo had learned Takeshi had been an assistant of one of the twelfth division scientists; a scientist who experimented a little too freely on the Vizard phenomenon. Five Shinigami died, Takeshi being the only one that managed to walk away. He had known enough not to stick around in a place where he might very well grace the test tubes. He'd been made outcast among his former colleagues.

Though the Vizard took him in (and he had known where to find him, his boss had researched that much at least) it did not mean he was trusted. An outcast among his new colleagues.

A Shinigami did not leave Seireitei easily.

Ichigo had known what it meant to step between two worlds. Had not what it meant to be outcast. And though the older Vizard accepted him readily it not mean he was not singled out.

Too powerful a child; it had always been his fate.

**S**

Renji shifted stiff muscles, futilely trying to wake limbs that had remained motionless for a great deal of hours.

He was a fool, Renji admitted. A complete idiot.

Dead, dead, dead. So many dead. Names and names that Renji wouldn't read, knowing them so well as to half believe them to be ingrained in his very soul. He wondered, like he always did if things could have been better. If there was a way for victory to not have asked such a steep price.

He was a fool for continuing this practice; returning to the memorial pillar to spend the day tormenting himself. If Ichigo were around he would have punched Renji out of his self-imposed pity party. If Ichigo were around Renji wondered if it would have been any different. If Renji would have been strong enough to face the memories he couldn't help but remember without falling.

They fought and fought, bloody and desperate. And they had been loosing. Despite their numbers, their skill, their determination—they had been losing. All their dead, all their sacrifices, all the friends paid to war's alter hadn't been enough.

Their venerated leaders hadn't been able to change anything.

Like in all things, Ichigo had stepped in when they had faltered. At the time their failed campaign casting shadow and suspicion, rumors of traitors springing from every corner. Ichigo had called them useless.

"_War is as old as time—why haven't you learnt anything?"_

They hadn't wanted to believe; hadn't wanted to know.

"_Aizen knows you. Studied each of you while he schemed and painted your little corner of his plot. The only reason I am alive right now—despite everything—is because he only knew Uruhara would send me here but not how far I would go for what I wanted._

"_Stop fighting like he expects. Find another way."_

They hadn't all believed. Not enough to sway the General anyway. To be exposed to such a degree was not something all of them could admit. Some would die with the delusion they were cleverer; that they hadn't betrayed everything they were to their former smooth-spoken companion.

"_Guerilla Warfare." Ichigo had spat, heavy and angry, still bloody from the latest skirmish. "It's stupid to wait for him to attack; for him to set the battlefield in his favor. You're letting him come at you when he is strongest. Stop being stupid."_

_Zaraki had howled his agreement._

_The General had sighed deeply, withered fingers pressed together as he considered the impetuous youth. "Kurosaki, I cannot change our battle plans to fit your views. However…if it is something you are willing to risk your life and that of others, then I will grant this: you may form a squad of volunteer Shinigami. In four months time your success or failure will be brought before me. Choose well, Kurosaki."_

It was an idea that not everyone had accepted. To willingly be led by an inexperienced ryoka was more than some could fathom.

"_Just as well." Ichigo had snorted. "I'm still surprised some of the dumb-asses here haven't dropped their zanpakuto on their own foot."_

Ichigo had always called to Renji. In the beginning it had been spitting rage at his own passiveness in the face of Rukia's condemnation. Later it was courage and fortitude to stand even when he knew the sheer impossibleness of a task. He'd taken Rukia from her death alter, ready to defy his very own captain.

"_Do not follow him, Renji." Captain Kuchiki Byakuya had ordered. "He is powerful, of that there is no doubt, but his inexperience will kill all those who follow him."_

_Renji had bitten down every bitterness that had touched him but he could not stop it all. "We're dying as it is. Better to have some hope than none at all."_

_Byakuya had only ever wanted to save his vice-captain. "If you leave you will no longer be my vice-captain, Renji."_

_He remember laughing hollowly. "You've taught me many things, captain, but that is not all that I have learned. I've watched too many of my friends die for that to stop me."_

Ichigo's squad was as unofficial as one could get. It was under no division, was under no supervisor, was officially never even recorded in the archives for all that it wasn't even a secret in later years. It was also something Aizen had never expected the Gotei 13 to sanction. It worked better than they could have hoped.

Twenty-two Shinigami, Ryoka, Vizard, and a rebel Arrancar. Twenty-two souls who were asked in secret; sworn into the guerilla squad, who in those days disappeared. They should have hated each other; destroyed their comrades before they ever had a chance to destroy their common enemy. But it worked.

Knowledge enough, speed swift, skill sharp, cunning sharp—they ventured into Hueco Mundo time and time again. Deeper into Aizen's territory.

They made the bastard pay.

"Your aptitude for brooding remains surprising." A soft voice commented behind him. Renji closed his eyes, tilting his head back.

"It never seemed to bother you before." Renji responded.

The figure moved to stand besides him, small hands winding into the crook of his elbow. Rukia's dark head nestled into his side. Together both Shinigami stared at the memorial pillar.

"We all handled the aftermath differently. Some drink, some hunt, you brood, and I forget." Rukia said in the same soft tone. "It never seems fair, you know? We left Rukongai to live; to live when everyone around us kept dying. And here we are—hands still holding the dead."

"I know." Renji said. It had never been fair. "The memories just seem closer tonight than they have in a while. I remember."

"The General's proclamation." Rukia surmised in a blank voice, a poor attempt to hide just how much the news was troubling her. "He will resign in three months time…"

"…and he has enacted a purge on those who conspired with the enemy." Renji finished. "I've heard stories the General accented to power through blood, to settle Seireitei's civil war. Guess he wants to end his reign the same way."

Neither Shinigami said anything, cynical enough do see beyond duty, order, and right and wrong.

Rukia burrowed her head in Renji's side. She whispered, worry blatant. "Soifon's men have been asking questions about Yuzu."

"Ichigo's…"

"Yes." Rukia confirmed. Kurosaki Yuzu might have an auspicious name but they had been careful to never link her closely to the former Kurosaki Ichigo. The Living Shinigami had a habit of disrupting the most carefully laid out plans. As a consequence there were still some that remembered him less than fondly.

"You think its revenge?" To kill the Living Shinigami's sister was a coup some would find worth their while.

Rukia sighed. "I don't know. Who could influence the General enough for the proclamation to include Yuzu's name? It would be justified murder and nothing anyone could do to stop it."

"I won't let them."

She shook her head. "You were part of Ichigo's squad, Renji. Though you brought in Aizen the squad included too many distrusted people for your word to be taken unbiasedly."

His hand drifted next to her, clenching the white haori he was robed in. "I am a captain of the Gotei 13, Rukia. I will not set of an example of cowardness."

_It was Kuchiki Byakuya who moved toward him, hands holding a folded white haori Renji was positive was not for him. When he followed Ichigo the red-haired Shinigami had admitted to himself he'd killed his career. He'd be lucky if he ever reached rank within a division._

"_You left in defiance of my orders. You have grown." Captain Kuchiki had stated, impassive face not revealing a thing to a nervous Renji. "To be a captain of the Gotei 13 means more than reaching final release of a zanpakuto. A captain is not led, they lead. Congratulations Captain Abarai Renji of the Third Division."_

"It's a witch-hunt." Renji stated. "My Division was once Gin's division. They have been looking at us all closely. The General is determined to retire without another Aizen brewing in the wings."

"Be careful, Renji."

**S**

_Bright orange and blinding white were splayed next to each other, two heads tilted to stare at the blue sky. In the distance gray clouds threatened._

"_Do not fear our power." His Other instructed. "Do not deny a part of ourselves."_

"_I…" Ichigo halted, uncertain. "I don't know if I can control it."_

_His Other bobbed him on the head, "Then don't. It is our power, it will never hurt us. You understood that well enough last time you were half-trained. Do not fear what is part of you."_

_Ichigo gazed at the bright blue sky._

**S**

**TBC…**

**A/N: Sorry update was a little slow. Exams that determine my whole future were just slightly more urgent. If it helps, I got an A.**

**Thanks for the support, I actually feel like I have an audience now.**

**REVIEW!...please? (Shameless begging)**


	8. Chapter 8

**S**

Sometimes she imagined she could remember. Sometimes she recalled what it felt to be something other than alone. She'd like to think it hadn't always been the same way.

For a while there had been Old Himiko in Rukongai but neither had ever been willing to let go of half-remembered dreams to embrace each other as family. Two or three years spend in her home—time had never been easy to mark—and then one day a Shinigami looked up from a table of grinning companions and saw something in her. Before she knew it, Yuze took his hand—_call me Renji he said_—and she was on her way to the Academy.

Later in the Shinigami Academy there came Nao and Anzu and Kimiko. They were all good girls; not the strongest or smartest, but_ there_ all the same. Talented in their own way and perhaps they should have been just a little bit more gifted. In the end not all of them lived through their Shinigami initiation.

It was different now. Different than it had been before war and strife had changed the land. A war-born legacy never forgotten—Hollows who were twisted toward every Shinigami weakness still roamed the outer lands.

Kimiko, soft-spoken girl that she was, didn't survive her first training outing—they'd always known not everyone did; they'd just never thought it'd take one of them.

The rest of them graduated; Anzu went into the ninth division, Nao into the fifth, and Yuzu had been marked as a healer since year three at the Academy. They would always be friends, sharing comradice and the death of a girl that should have been with them. But duties came and their goals drifting farther apart.

Fourth Division was also something like a family—though never enough to completely banish ghost memories. In Fourth there was Masagi and Hojo and Ikari and Aiko. Laughing, cheerful healers—not powerful or skilled enough to be ranked—but they'd found their place. No hands were ever too small to save a life.

And perhaps it was all just a nice dream and it was time to wake up. Because Yuzu kept feeling like she was waiting, like her soul had promised something and her mind had forgotten.

So she continued waiting and she didn't even now why.

And finally, she feared her waiting might end but for an entirely different reason.

"Kurosaki Yuzu—by order of the General of the Gotei 13 you are under arrest. Any resistance will be met by force, surrender yourself Kurosaki."

**S**

"Machiro!" Ichigo yelled out freely, letting himself act like the child he physically looked like.

"Berry-tan!" The green-haired woman greeted, dropping sacks and purchases as she expertly held her hands out to catch a running Ichigo. "You've grown, Berry-tan!"

The orange-haired boy mock chided her, "You've only been gone a month, Machiro."

"But it seems like forever…" She whined, still hugging the boy.

Mischievously Ichigo peeked at her from under long bangs, "So…did you bring me anything?"

"How rude!" She cried. "I'm gone and the first thing you ask is if I brought you anything!"

He sighed. "Well, did you?"

"I shouldn't give it to you, just to teach you a lesson but I'm too nice."

Digging into her purchases she brought out a square paper-wrapped package and gave it to the smiling Vizard-in-Training.

"Thank you! Thank you, Machiro!" He hugged her before running off. "You're the best!"

Impishly he stuck out his tongue as he passed Hiyori, the ladder of which flashed her fangs at him.

"You really shouldn't spoil him, Machiro." Hiyori complained. "He's wild enough as it is."

"Ah…there's no harm, Hiyori. It's all in fun."

The blond woman merely muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath. "If you insist. Let's bring everything inside; Hirako is waiting for your report."

At that Machiro adopted a peculiar frown, an odd expression on her generally happy face.

"Something wrong?"

Machiro gave the other woman a trouble look. "Perhaps. There have been some very unsettling things leaving Seireitei."

"Hm?"

"The old General has announced his retirement."

"About time. Fire-goat's been there longer than anyone can remember."

Machiro shrugged unconcerned. "But he's been making proclamations that are…worrisome."

"For us?"

Again a shrug. "Don't think so but they might affect us some…"

**S**

"Sanada and Sai!" Love bellowed, freezing the two boys.

The watching Vizard-in-Training sprung apart, letting Love-sensei smoothly cut through their ranks.

"I thought we had made it clear—you are not to battle each other without supervision." Love stated tightly, frowning disapprovingly at the two boys.

Sanada and Sai shifted, glaring sullenly at the side.

"Love," Rose murmured, face impassive as he halted his fellow. "They won't understand lectures. It's time they admitted this is more than a game."

Love tilted his head to the side. "Sou ka? I suppose…"

"Really, _children,_we have been entirely too lenient with you." Rose tittered. A wisp of steel hissed as Rose threw his blade from its scabbard. Before him, Sanada and Sai paled as their sensei stepped forward. "You feel your power, darker and more terrible than any you have ever felt before…"

"…So wild, so petulant. A whim and a want." Love continued just as softly. "It's so easy to image you can do anything, bend everything to your will…"

"Have you realized then?" Rose murmured as he circled Sanada and Sai. Watching them the other four frozen Vizards-in-Training stood frozen.

"Half of you won't survive your final test." Love stated sharply.

"Half of you won't find the strength to rule your power instead of letting it rule you."

'_Are you ready?' _Hollow words echoed in Ichigo's mind.

A memory without the delusion of it being a nightmare.

_Bloody swords and flashing steel. He was fifteen the day he picked up one for real. Why did he ever think it was going to be easy?_

_He was just a boy chasing dreams._

'_Are you ready?'_

Hands twisted and power sang. Love's face disappeared behind a grinning Mask, black and white more chilling than any red. For the first time the Vizards-in-Training saw the final form of their destiny.

"This is what each of you will face." He said clearly behind his Mask. "The darker sides of yourselves. All your ambitious, all your anger, all your love, your jealousy, your envy, your hatred given form without restraint. It mattes not if you call yourself good or evil—it makes no difference before your darker half. Your control, your awareness of yourself, and in some cases your idiotic stubbornness will be all that holds you to who you are now.

"Even as you grow here, your Hollow grows in strength…and one day it will be strong enough to force you into the depths of your mind if you cannot make it submit. Are you ready for that?"

A beautifully white presence twisted with his own.

'_My darker half?' _Ichigo whispered.

'_The smarter half.' _His Other snipped.

'_Oi…'_

Soft laughter ghosted along his senses, echoing within his soul. Surprisingly pleasant given its owner.

'_Yare, yare. Haven't you figured it out yet, silly King?_' Beautiful light could still blind. _'Love is the most jealous emotion of them all…'_

'_What…?'_

But whatever it was, was gone in an instant.

'_We're running out of time, Ichigo. A foul wind comes—if you do not Remember we will lose.'_

'_Remember…'_

His Other fell silent.

Ichigo bowed his head, nails digging painfully into his palms though if anyone had asked he would not have been able to say why.

**S**

Smoke was a hazy screen drifting between the faces of everyone that sat around the table. Half-full and empty pitchers glittered amber in the poor light.

"They got Dai, Gin's old seventh." Someone murmured, the click of newly emptied pitchers echoing softly.

"Akagi, too, from the twelfth division; used to be a rankless lackey in Aizen's day."

A few hissed at the mention of the bastard's name.

"General's flaying anyone with a hint of doubt tacked on their damn _mother's_ name."

"I wasn't aware any of you even knew your own mother." Someone muttered.

A red-shadow snorted. "Tell that to the General."

"What about you Renji?" A man muttered, scalp gleaming. "Seen any of Soifon's little pests sniffing you?"

A full mouth of amber liquid and the slow burn that followed. "Ah. They're a decade too early if they think they can hide themselves from me."

Smoky laughter followed.

"Renji…" One of them said hesitantly.

"What?" He nearly snapped when nothing else was forthcoming.

"They got three healers from the Fourth, one was released this afternoon, but the other two have been nailed to the Tower."

Renji was silent.

"The Kurosaki girl was among them."

The men around the table let the tense silence settle. The soft _swish_ as cards were flipped into the center the only sound for several long moments.

"I can't image what deluded reason there is for taking that girl into the Tower." Renji finally said, half-angry and half-choked but most of all tired. He'd_known_. He'd known it would come to this and known he couldn't do anything but wait till they hauled her in.

"What are you going to do? If you ask too many questions the whole mess will cling to you." One of them said. "You are the one that picked the girl for the Academy."

Ikkaku merely watched Renji from the corner of his eye, both the only two in the gathering that knew the real reason why the whole matter nettled the red-haired Shinigami.

"Deal the cards, Ling." Was the only thing he said in return.

**S**

Hitsugaya Toshiro had always known control.

It was the only thing that saved the upstart Special Forces Captain that unashamedly glanced around his office as if he could somehow find plans to an overthrow the General tacked on the wall.

Toshiro _oversaw_ Seireitei's internal security, protected its secrets. The Special Forces Captain could at least pretend that regular Shinigami had a little more subtly in their ranks than the average brawler. It irked him like nothing else to have to suffer the arrogant fool sniff around like there weren't eighteen different ways Toshiro could tear their investigation fool of holes.

Instead Toshiro stood straight, glacial eyes never leaving the troop of Special Forces, as they herded one of _his_ men between them. _His _soldier,_his _responsibility—_his. _

And he was damn certain if treachery was brewing in his ranks he'd be the first to know. It wasn't that he was a blind fool either. Toshiro knew very well that anything was possible. It was a lesson learned long ago. Impossibilities always had the ugly habit of being proven possible by the most annoying people.

But… but they had no right to take _his soldier_.

Matsumoto Rangiku was equally still at his side, her admittedly beautiful face grim, lips pressed tightly.

Protocol practically ordered Toshiro and his vice-captain to stand aside as one of their own was hauled away. Rules, Toshiro knew, had a way of settling bitterly in the pit of his being.

And a second before the Special Forces disappeared the frightened eyes of Yasuro met Toshiro's own.

Strong hands curled into fists.

_His._

**S**

"I see." Hirako murmured softly, hands nearly crushing the worn sheets covered in messy notes. What they had suspected had finally come to pass. Seireitei was on the move.

Hirako wasn't fool enough to think he could predict what the old General of Seireitei was thinking. It didn't mean he'd sit idly by and wait for everything to unfold. He hadn't survived as long as he had by pretending everything would somehow be alright.

He _couldn't_ pretend. There where too many relying on him to keep them safe. His old friends—companions that'd been besides him for years and years—and all those new ducklings.

"Machiro, Hiyori. In two days time we'll retreat further into the outer lands, perhaps to our training grounds. I don't know what kind of hunt the General's thought up but we won't take the chance that we'll be involved. I'm positive they are aware of this outpost—it's been our only permanent settlement—and it won't do to have them catch us unawares."

"Damn Shinigami." Hiyori muttered sullenly. "I told you it was a bad idea to stay so close to their lands."

Hirako merely gave her a flat stare. "The benefits far outweigh the consequences, Hiyori."

The She-Devil scowled.

Machiro never lost her amicable expression. "And Hachibi-chan? Isn't he supposed to get here soon?"

Hirako sparred Hiyori one last look before glancing at the green-haired woman. "Yes. Lisa and Kensai will escort them to our new training ground. It isn't the time to rely on little messengers."

"What about…" Hiyori mussed, mulling over her words and finding them unpleasant. "…that girl, Yuzu."

At that Hirako stilled, eyes intent on the messy scrawl.

_Kurosaki Yuzu._

"Berry-tan won't ever-never forgive us if we don't tell him. He didn't last time it happened to his family."

All three fell silent.

It would be so easy. So easy to let words die; let Ichigo's half-remembered memories lie silent. Because even if they knew that behind the hopelessly young face of the Vizard-child there still existed the soul of a stubborn half-insane mortal boy they didn't know how much the boy could do in the end.

Would they tell him so he'd end up as another monster on a Shinigami sword? Tell him so his failure would lead back to their enclave? Tell him so he'd suffer the death of the same sister all over again? Suffer and know he wasn't there to save her?

And really that's what decided the matter. Ichigo wasn't like them. He'd wandered too deeply into his reiatsu, marked himself as something else even before his mortal death. Others awoke in the Spirit World and knew little of the sins that marked them in their mortal life. But Ichigo was fated to remember, to know everything that he had forgotten and everything that he had lived.

Hiyori turned away, leaving with only a hard look at Hirako's face. She knew without having to be told.

"Ichigo will be told. But…" Hirako decided. His hand drifted to his own zanpakuto, "But I will give the news with my own message. If he wants to go he should know what he will face. They won't give him a chance to learn this time, they'll know better than to underestimate him."

"You mean to fight him?" Machiro asked curiously.

"If he hasn't found what he needs to stand against me he won't ever make it to the girl."

**S**

In dreams Ichigo twisted. Restless sleep and uneasy peace.

And in dreams…

…he remembered how the world _burned_.

**S**

**TBC….**

**AN: Sorry about the long wait. Got caught up in school (notice, its the same lame excuse I've been using for a while). Am in vacations for a bit so hopefully I'll have the next chapter in the next couple of days.**


	9. Chapter 9

**S**

When Hirako appeared in their training ground, Ichigo didn't expect to be herded in front of the Vizard leader. He certainly didn't expect to be literally ordered to spar with the so much more experienced elder.

And yet…

There was something different in this spar. The least of which was because Hirako decided it would be a wonderful opportunity to do his damnest to smash Ichigo into the ground.

The world dissolved in a kaleidoscope of color and sound. Too fast. Too sharp. And still blond sang in a way to was too familiar to be frightening.

"Your guard, Ichigo! Watch your guard!" Love-sensei bellowed from the sidelines.

He_ knew_ that, dammit.

_Fight, _Hirako's eyes called out.

_Remember_, his Other whispered.

_We are_, his zanpaktou sang.

And Ichigo—body dancing, hands flashing, heart knowing—wanted to stop and scream '_what?'_

What…what did it mean…?

"Ichigo!" Hirako barked, spinning and bringing burning silver down on the younger boy. Metal rang as the two Vizards clashed. Ichigo's arms stung and cried with the impact.

Bastard, Ichigo glared angrily.

_This is you_, his Other said.

_This is you_, Zangetsu announced.

He only had a second to sullenly wonder when his head had collected so many characters before he was nearly tripping over himself to avoid another sharp slash.

"Is this it?" Hirako mocked in a velvet voice Ichigo could only recall distantly. "Is this all you have?"

Crystal red drops hung suspended in the air, falling with a gentle hiss on the hard-packed earth. It was only a second later that he felt the cool trickle of blood on his arm, trailing from a shallow cut.

"Who are you?" Hirako asked, eyes intent on the boy. Around them the Vizard shifted closer.

_Newly dead_, Ichigo wanted to mutter but some self-preservation instinct said he was liable to be in a world of pain if he answered that.

_An old man, with scores of children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Hands bend with age and years upon years of healing others._

Hirako slid closer, sword making the air whistle as it nicked Ichigo's left flank.

_A husband, a father, an uncle._

Steel rang and Zangetsu's ribbon curled around him, the silky hold sliding off as he pushed back.

_A doctor, healer, protector, caretaker._

Arms aching and poor heart beating so wildly it was a wonder it didn't just jump out of his chest. He couldn't…couldn't keep up with Hirako. Wasn't fast enough, skilled enough…

Only instincts had saved him from graver injury. As it was, he was already sporting dozens of nicks.

Stop thinking, Ichigo berated himself as steel once more scored a bloody incision into his hip.

_Stop thinking_, his Other chided. _This is instinct!_

A powerful thrust, parry here, cut there. Feet's skidding as Ichigo was once again forced back. His breath harsh and heavy, loud in the silence of their audience.

"Who are you?" Hirako asked once more, eyes intent on the boy. In their depths Ichigo read a judgment, a test. He couldn't fail now.

_A friend, a brother, a son. Titles of sorrow and so many graves that'd carried that link with them._

The past…the past, Ichigo reminded himself. It hurt; hurt with a dull, constant whine that had never ever faded. But he couldn't run from it, couldn't led himself be swallowed by barely remembered guilt and remorse. Not when it meant something in the here and now.

So Hirako asked with steady, hard eyes and Ichigo tried to find the answer.

_A soldier, warrior, Commander! Living Shinigami and masked Vizard. _

It was there in his mind. Words edged in blood and strife. Once upon a time he'd taken up a sword…

Ichigo stumbled.

_We are_, his Other whispered gleefully.

_We are_, Zangetsu intoned gravely.

"We are…" Ichigo stated, eyes blazing as he stared up at Hirako from his knees, blade tug deeply into the ground to steady him.

Hirako never slowed as Ichigo stepped up only to spring forward once more.

He remembered this dance, this wild song of steel and flesh and blood and primal instinct.

And even as Hirako smashed Ichigo into the ground there was something proud in the sly eyes and Cheshire grin.

**S**

"I suppose that is that. You'll not turn back?" Hiyori commented, sharp bone-slim dagger picking at her nails.

"What ever do you mean my dear?" Hirako titled his face at the woman.

Hiyori knew better than to let the other Vizard annoy her. Hirako Shinji was not the type of person someone grew fond of, merely the type one got used to. "Don't act ignorant, you insufferable bastard. The boy."

"You mean Ichigo-kun? Why didn't you ever say so? How am I suppose to know what you mean?"

Fanged teeth gritted together. Despite swearing not to let the smiling bastard lead her along she still found herself half-way wanting to strangle the obstinate bastard.

"Now, now. No need to scowl so fiercely. Things will move as they will. Machiro is healing Ichigo as best as she can and before we depart this base he will be told."

"Is that really wise? He lost against you. How is he supposed to go up against the whole of Seireitei?"

"You give me far too much credit. He is the one that had to fight on two battle fronts. If he'd chosen to run from his memories it doesn't matter if he could have defeated me or not—I would not have told him anything. Besides he has always been terrifying given a reason to fight."

"And you're sure he remembers?"

For the first time in the conversation Hirako lost his easy sprawl, grin slipping and sharp eyes suddenly more focused. "Back then…you weren't there with us. The blitz war we played at took everything we are. There was not an hour we weren't moving…sometimes I'd fall asleep and only realize later that I was running. We lived in a state of hyperawareness, bodies functioning even after our minds had crawled into dark little corners. All that time together, everything...I learned the_ taste _reiatsu. I know his reiatsu and the color experience has given it, know it as well as I know my own.

"Kurosaki Ichigo has finally woken from the living dream he once willing choose."

**S**

_Blood splayed innocent flowers brilliant crimson._

_It was wrong._

_Yuzu's flowers…yellow and white and the palest of rose—they should never have been the color of human life. Still Ichigo was frozen with a horror his mind did not want to understand._

_Trembling eyes slowly turned downward, eyes refusing to recognize the blank eyes of his father._

_Winter frost and rotting reiatsu flooded the air. A heartbeat later Hitsugaya Toshiro skidded roughly past him. Without looking Ichigo knew that if he turned to look at the Gotei captain he'd see Shinigami robes clawed and bleeding deeply. Three slashes he knew, sharp and cruel, the mirror image of his father's torso._

"_Taicho!" Someone screamed._

"…_that's not a Hollow!"_

"…_what the hell is it?"_

"_Vastro Lord…"_

"…_no...new."_

"_Aizen's damn farewell toy." Someone snarled, someone who should have been familiar yet for the life of him he could not say who it was._

_But Ichigo…_

_Ichigo was nine and so very afraid as the monster ate his mother. He didn't…he didn't want to see! Didn't wasn't to see his mother's flat eyes. _

_Please God…don't take her away._

_Not even a decade later and he still didn't want to see. He didn't want to see his annoying useless father stare at the sky with eyes that were already gone. _

_His baka father who always woke him with a drop kick and more often than not made Ichigo want to cringe at the family connection. _

_His infuriating father who held him through nights when the shadows seemed too real and piece by piece hoarded every shard of a broken boy till he'd grown strong enough to stand on his own._

_Please God, no more. _

_Ichigo didn't want to break again. He didn't want to be nine and scared of things no one else saw. And yet somehow, despite leading a ragtag group of explosive misfits through a bloody war nothing could have prepared Ichigo to see dust and flames racing unnaturally through his neighborhood._

_It was supposed to be over…_

_And a girl screamed, angry, indignant, and familiar enough to steal his breath._

_He…He couldn't break. Not when the world had narrowed down to two things._

_Yuzu and Karin._

_Electric blue reiatsu trembled as the very world narrowed. Beneath dusty orange bangs eyes as brilliant as dying stars snapped open._

_It was supposed to be over…_

_It did not change the fact that Yuzu's eyes did not recognize him—dear God he did not want to see Yuzu—who shared their mother's eyes—slip away._

_It was supposed to be over, he thought bitterly as Karin clutched at his robes, howling with raged sorrow into his shoulder._

_It was supposed to be over…_

…_he'd never meant to invite this war onto his doorstep._

Eyes snapped open and the crackling of wind and fire faded from his dazed mind. He stiffened, wary of the silence and unfamiliar room.

A second later he recalled what living nightmare he'd left behind. Nausea and chill raked him and all he could do was press his face against his pillow as he screamed.

Once upon a time war had given him a burden too heavy for any child to bear—and in the end that's what he'd been—a child. Rather than break and fester from guilt, sin, and regret Ichigo had done the only thing he could for the last of his blood.

He'd forgotten.

And he didn't know whether to feel guilty or not that he didn't regret his decision for one moment.

Karin had grown—lived, loved, welcomed a family, and never ever had to avert her eyes from spirit shadows no one else saw.

He'd forgotten and he would do it all over again.

'_Never regret and never apologize.' _Zangetsu conceded even as his Other howled, '_We make our own damn way.'_

**S**

Hirako found Ichigo curled up in the infirmary bed, gaze fixed on the outside sky. With only a whisper of his presence and the orange-haired child was tilting his head toward the Vizard leader. Grave eyes studied the elder, the expression nearly unsettling as it stole across youthful features.

"Hirako Shinji."

"Aa. Taicho."

The boy grunted as he turned back to look at the sky. "Since when did we need a taicho Shinji? We were never one of those useless Gotei squads."

A sharp Cheshire grin only widened at the words that were the answer to a test the insufferable Vizard loved to give.

Lips twisted as the boy gnawed on an idle finger, the image reminding Hirako of the child Ichigo merely looked like. Brow furrowed and confused eyes turned back to the Vizard elder, "Why…why did they…follow me?"

"Many reasons…" Hirako shrugged. "But about the only one you ever understood was because you weren't exactly one of us even if you'd become one. Everyone else had spent years hacking at each other in the shadows, no reasonable way we'd follow each other's orders. But someone who hadn't been involved in that, who'd helped everyone out, who'd swung his blade at everyone, and who was strong enough to counter any objections….now that was someone everyone could follow, even if it was an impatient reckless foul-mouthed little brat."

Instead of angry denial Ichigo smiled wryly. Helplessly he lifted his arms who were swallowed up in a sleeping robe several sizes too big. "Somehow I doubt this was the improvement anyone foresaw a century into my future."

"I suppose not. Who knows, someone train you right this time and you might actually become a cute little brat."

"Bastard." Ichigo snapped without any real heat.

"Parentage aside, there is something I have to tell you…"

Immediately every trace of humor fled from the child's face and serious eyes settled on the older man, reminding him even more strongly of the war-weary teenager version.

"Many years ago I came across an Academy student who seemed familiar for some reason. It took some doing but I eventually found her name: Kurosaki Yuzu."

_Please God…_

**S**

**TBC…**

**AN: Apparently I'm a liar—I took me a whole lot longer to update this time around. To be honest most of this was written a long time ago but there always seemed to be something missing.**

**29 April 2008**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: You know it.**

**S**

"_Kiss! Kiss!" The girl squealed, dimpled hands grasping the air as she happily barreled into adult legs._

"_How's my girl?" Ichigo asked his great-grandaughter. _

"_I hope Megumi isn't being a bother, Uncle."_

"_This girl?" Ichigo laughed, making the girl squeal as well. "Never. For being an Ishida, Megumi obviously takes after me."_

_His grandson-in-law sighed helplessly. "Uncle…Is it really fair to say that without Grandfather here to defend himself?"_

"_It's the principal of the matter. I spent decades making Uryuu lose his composure and then you had to announce your engagement to my granddaughter. I don't think I'll ever forgive you for surpassing me."_

_The current Ishida whined, "Uncle…"_

_Megumi laughed alongside her 'Uncle'. _

Many decades later, past death and into the afterlife, Ichigo having remembered exactly why Ishida had been such a good friend would then sputter upon realizing the marriage of their grandchildren made them _family_.

**S**

The guard's footsteps only made a soft swish as they walked down the narrow path, the odd wheeling of a food cart only a step behind.

"Excuse me…please…wait a moment…"

The guard continued on with deaf ears.

"Please! Please! Why am I here?!..." The woman strained to see past the narrow door opening, face pressed tightly against the cell block door. Finally she whispered, "Please…why?"

"Don't stain yourself, darlin'" Her cell companion remarked blandly. "You think they're going to look at your pretty face and everything is going to be alright? Typical… Can't just lock me up they had to stick me in with a pretty lil' doll from the Fourth."

Kurosaki Yuzu knotted her hands tightly into her hair. She almost missed the days when she'd been alone in her cell. The silence might have been horribly loud and the guard's shifts the highlight of her day but at least it didn't include an acerbic Division One woman with more bite in her morning greeting than Yuzu usually saw in weeks.

"Don't you care?" Yuzu asked. "We've been locked up here for days and we haven't an idea as to why."

The woman merely snorted. "Since when did they ever need a reason? You're a young lil thing—you haven't figured out they do what they want and get rid of who they don't."

Yuzu moved to settle on the opposite side of her cellmate. She couldn't believe that. Not of Unohana-taicho, Aiko, Renji-sama. Not of everyone who saved her when she felt like she was drowning. That gave her a name and made the world into something other than a hazy dream.

"You are _wrong_." Yuzu whispered quietly and fiercely. "This is wrong."

"Is that supposed to change anything, darlin'?"

"It doesn't mean we have to give up."

"I don't know when they brought you in but they've been hauling Shinigami everyday since the old man proclaimed it. They aren't about to slow down for a little girl."

"And is that kind of thinking supposed to change anything?" Yuzu parroted back.

A sharp bark of laughter broke the other woman's countenance.

"And who to you think will save us? Neither of us is Kuchiki-sama; there isn't some man anywhere so in love with our beauty and grace as to storm Seireitei itself."

"You know that story isn't true. The Living Shinigami's a tale's that's been blown out of proportion."

"Aww…" The woman cooed. "Does Yuzu-chan not believe in love?"

"I believe in love." Yuzu replied with a serenity she wasn't sure where it came from. "But it's always bothered me, if the Living Shinigami really did love Kuchiki-sama like the story says, why did he leave her in the end of the war? Isn't the love the story claims supposed to break all barriers?"

Instead of mocking Yuzu like she'd been doing all along her cellmate leaned forward onto her knees. "Perhaps there's something inside your head besides fluff, darlin'. I've heard that theory before…and another version of the tale to go with it. According to this version the Living Shinigami came to Seireitei to repay a debt. The tale says Kuchiki-sama first contemned herself to save his family."

"…which one to you think is true?"

"Between a story of unrivaled love and one of honor, any sensationalist would say love but I've always held it to be honor. Love is selfish and you don't get very far if the only reason you have exists within yourself. Honor, on the other hand, honor demands all that you are and if it is worthy enough, honor is a banner for others to follow."

"But don't you think it's too simple? Why honor? Or why love? Why not both?"

The woman shrugged. "And who do you think is going to ask Kuchiki-sama for the truth? It's too pretty a fairytale to ruin with a thing like the truth."

"Is it alright to make history into a fairytale?"

Her cellmate merely sighed. "I'm beginning to figure out why such a sweet lil' mouse like you is here—you ask too many damn questions. Fact of the matter is Kuchiki-sama had a powerful ace in her corner to bail her out when she needed it. We don't."

Yuzu nearly scoffed, only ingrained manners keeping her polite. "And that thinking is supposed to change what?"

"Cleave girl. If I was you I wouldn't be counting on any Living Shinigami making a household call."

"…_Kon-nii-san_." Yuzu breathed out, a feeling of comfort triggering the word without a reason as to why.

"What was that?"

"I'm…not sure…"

**S**

"You still need a plan. No one ever said breaking into Seireitei was easy…well they haven't said it lately."

Ichigo shifted, impatience barely contained. He needed to be doing something—anything. His sister was at risk—the same sister he'd failed a lifetime ago. But he also understood how impulsive he could be. He didn't know for sure, but it was quite possible he'd only have one chance to reach Yuzu. And if he failed…

…he didn't know what would become of him.

Hirako rocked back and forward on the balls of his heels, Cheshire grin stretching to near obsceneness.

"Yare, yare. Think it through. There is something I want you to remember—everything you were—for better or worse—still exists within you. I have a feeling you have seen plenty of what you were in your nightmares but you shouldn't forget: you were also hope. And when the world is falling apart hope can be the sharpest edge to rest against.

"I honestly don't know if I understand it but I might be the only one that does. This you that _is_ can probably be most accurately called the third incarnation of Kurosaki Ichigo. You are the boy I knew long ago but you are also the man that boy grew up to be. This you is the product of those two very different lifetimes, time spend wandering Rukongai, and here with us. You are an idiot so I'll tell you this now—what you do might not be what you would have done in another lifetime. Don't ignore everything you have been in an effort to return to what we remember."

Ichigo frowned, lips thinning as he though over what Hirako was trying to say in his usually infuriating manner. It was only a testament to patience gained during his years as a doctor and father that he managed to speak without snarling. "Do you mean to say it might be better if I left Yuzu?"

Hirako shrugged, not at all bothered. "That isn't for me to say. The fact that you thought of it means you no longer are the boy you were."

As bitter as it was Ichigo forced himself to consider the matter as someone other than a very homicidal brother.

There were very few people Ichigo could honestly say would never betray their _nakama—_Yuzu was definitely among them_. _Objectively he could say Karin or Kon (dear Kami how could he have forgotten that gluttonous perverted excuse for a body-sitter?) would have hurt their companions, even if only for the right reasons, sooner than Yuzu.

Her crime, then, wasn't so much to be laid at her feet but taken to be some strange ornament Seireitei had decided to deck her with from the bowels of their anal bureaucratic nightmare. This he could discern before making a move—something he sheepishly realized he'd never considered in regards to Rukia.

However rescuing Yuzu might be more detrimental than he could see at this point. He'd certainly never realized how neatly he'd run headfirst into Aizen and Urahara's plans.

His invasion had effectively shadowed Aizen's moves and this time around he couldn't ignore the possibility that someone might be using Yuzu to the same effect. Not to mention in the confusion of his arrival quite a few Shinigami had died (even if not by his hand). All soldiers he would later realize that were desperately needed in a world of war.

On the other hand he was fairly certain that Hirako wasn't letting him go to accomplish some plan of his own. No matter how good Urahara's intentions had been there came to be many times Ichigo wished he'd sent him home when first he'd stupidly asked for power.

In the end the war had cost him a price he couldn't pay. A price extracted each time he knelt before the graves of Yuzu and his father. He was fairly certain that his involvement this time around wouldn't follow him back—even if it did the Vizard were paranoid enough to survive.

So he could only wonder if Yuzu's imprisonment was a deliberate plot to provoke him. Modesty had never been a well-cultivated trait in Ichigo, making him quite capable of realizing the power to be gained by whoever held his sister as a leash around his throat. There was always the bitter possibility Ichigo would have to go up against a former friend either because they would uphold Seireitei justice or because they themselves were the ones behind the plot. Only someone that had known him or had the resources to find out would have realized just who Yuzu had been in the Living World. Neither possibility eased his mind.

Any further thoughts were lost as Hirako tapped his forehead. "Enough brooding brat. You can do plenty of that when you leave."

Studying Ichigo, Hirako's gin took on a fairly vicious glint. "As for your lesson…let's see if you remember _shunpo_."

Cat eyes and a woman that made entire divisions blush laughed in his mind as Ichigo glared with equal menace. "I suggest you keep your blades to yourself—not even when I first learned did I ever want to play that sort of tag. And my first teacher was worlds prettier than you."

"Must you ruin my fun?"

Ichigo settled for glaring.

"What a very uncute brat."

A snort was his reply.

"Have you decided how you'll be breaking in?" Hirako finally asked, managing to look like he didn't care.

In response Ichigo's lips slowly curled till they were titled in a full-blown grin. "Simple. I'll be him."

Hirako blinked before he followed where the younger boy was pointing. Starring back from a large mirror was the unmoved reflection of Hirako and the grinning Ichigo.

Ichigo continued, "Aizen for all that he was a bastard had one thing right since the beginning. He made everyone see what they wanted to see. And I need them to see an Academy student."

Despite himself Hirako was impressed. "Could work…definitely could work. You just need to hide the giant meat cleaver you call a zanpakuto and that rather…distinctive hair."

Ichigo was scowling before he realized it, hand already defensively touching orange strands. "Geez…I know that. This isn't the first time I dyed my hair."

The older Vizard sighed in remembrance, "Neither of us made very good brunettes…"

"As for Zangetsu…we know what it means that a zanpakuto is a reflection of our soul. Zangetsu does not live in a blade."

Hirako stilled. "…ours?"

Ichigo flinched.

"I know brat." Hirako sighed again, this time in weariness. "I know. Of all that exists—Shinigami, Vizard, Arrancar, and Human—you are closest now to a Vizard. You are _Kin_, brat."

"But I'm not." Ichigo admitted somewhat callously. "You can all call me Vizard and I do the same but the truth is I was Human before I was anything else. My balance is different; my hollow is different than yours. I'm pretty much screwed up."

"Be what you will then brat, does that mean you are something other than Ichigo?"

Ichigo scowled at his reflection. "You know I don't like taking any philosophical crap from you."

"Says the orange-haired midget."

**S**

Periodic typing wove itself around classical music, its resulting symphony comforting for someone who had heard it all their life. Outside the night was still, interrupted only by the occasional distant train and wildlife call.

Somehow or another Ishida Ryou couldn't get it out of his mind that Kami was flaunting the current display of normalcy in preparation for something that would very soon give him a very big headache.

He hated being right when an hour later a servant knocked on his office door.

"Master Ishida, there is a man at the gate with a message for you. He asked me to show you this."

Ryou frowned at the badge held in the servant's palms. He'd yet to find a good reason to touch anything belonging to a Shinigami least of all a Shinigami badge.

"I understand. Do not invite him in. I will see him at the gate." Ryou instructed before dismissing the servant.

_Shinigami_…the word left a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew all about Shinigami. Ryou scowled as he leaned back on his chair, not at all inclined to hurry to what would only be a vexing meeting.

Looking around his office it was clear that Ryou was a doctor.

But that was not all that he was.

Ishida Ryou was quite proud to call himself a grandson of Ishida Uryuu and Orihime.

In acknowledging this legacy he also took on the even older history of the Quincy, a line not easily held. Ryou knew about the massacre of the Quincy by the Shinigami; knew just how much it irked the self-righteous Shinigami the workings of the Quincy power. But even if Ryou had never been one to patrol the city for hollows he understood how helpless humans were in the face of the beasts. He wasn't about to seal his legacy just because it nettled the death gods. Even they must recognize Shinigami were not always there in time to save everyone, and in some cases weren't willing to save those they could.

Resignedly Ryou stood up, not willing to tempt fate anymore than he already had.

He could afford to be confident in his own home—Grandmother Orihime had seen to that. From what he could remember and had been told by his Uncle Ichigo, Grandmother Orihime was one of the kindest woman's to walk the earth, generous to her friends and enemies alike if his Grandfather not entirely discontent mutterings could be believed.

But Orihime had also been a wife and mother to a Quincy and by then had seen enough of the darker nature of humans and Shinigami to take a few precautions. For more than a century a barrier had rejected the dead souls of trespassers from the Ishida Compound. Its expansive grounds protecting the slowly growing Quincy line from a repeat of history.

"Shinigami." Ryou called out from his side of the barrier, hands loose and all too ready to draw his reiatsu and call his bow to life.

"Quincy." Was the toneless reply. "A message from the General of the Gotei 13."

Ryou grimaced. "Toss it to this side of the gate. Does it need a reply?"

"Hai."

Cautiously Ryou picked up the message scroll, breaking the seal and quickly scanning through the missive. The grimace on his face only deepened as he read further.

"Impossible. I will not send a Quincy representative to Seireitei itself. Our lives may be short in comparison but our memories are not. I am very much aware of what the Shinigami have done to this line."

The messenger shinigami did not change posture. "The Gotei understands this. In exchange for your services Seireitei will offer all the research conducted by Division XII of the Gotei with regards to the Quincy."

Ryou's eyes narrowed in displeasure. "Not only are you asking us for our service but you intent to pay it with the blood of our ancestors?"

The shinigami remained silent.

"Tell this to your general: I want all the research conducted by all of Seireitei—not just one Division—on the Quincy as well as any body belonging to this line you have kept in that horror show you call a Division. You will provide two guards from within the Vizards to accompany my representative in addition to my own guards. Finally since I am not at all inclined to go to Seireitei this agreement will be conditional on the existence of a Quincy willing to go and do as Seireitei wants."

"Understood. Your message will be relayed."

Ryou turned, declining to watch the shinigami vanish. His eyes remained narrowed on the parchment in his hands.

"Shinigami executions…" He mused. That was certainly an ironic request from Seireitei. After all, it was the Quincy's destruction of souls that had incited their massacre more than three hundred years ago.

He wondered what exactly was happening in Seireitei to bring this event about. Either way it could only mean trouble.

**S**

Bloodthirsty grin.

Grim eyes.

Impassive stance.

This is what they were. Facets of the same soul. Different faces, different tempers, different names. They were One.

With a sigh brown eyes opened, flaring electric blue before settling. All around the grasslands stirred under the early dawn.

"Only forward…" Ichigo said. "It's the only way."

A whisper of wind signaled the beginning. A flash of _shunpo _led the way.

In the distance Seireitei waited.

**S**

**TBC….**

**A/N: Yeah…Been a while, ne? **

This story will not become a Ichigo goes to the Academy--honestly I really don't have a plan to include the Academy. And there isn't any time anyway, Yuzu has a deadline.

**Thanks to everyone who has been loving this story. I feel the inappropriate feelings floating about.**

**Since the manga has released the history of the Vizard I won't be going back to correct any inconsistencies in my work. I mostly kept it vague enough to begin with that it shouldn't bother anyone overmuch, and if it does fanfiction is not for you.**

**There will be no romance development in this story—either it is or it isn't. **

**24 September 2008**


	11. Chapter 11

**S**

Not all truths set one free.

There are truths that remain despite their unpleasant nature. Truths that make the world seem a little uglier, a little more hopeless. And no matter how much one wants to cringe and protest against their existence, truth does not change.

Not all truths should be shared.

In this Aizen taught them all—every hand you hold out can be slapped away. Every trust you give away can be betrayed. Everyone can be used, manipulated, discarded.

This is truth.

This was the truth of Rukia's body, of Orihime's power, of Ichigo's invasion, and Urahara's meddling. Aizen made them pawns in a game they weren't aware of; used their attachments and loyalties to goad them into his schemes. They ran headlong from goal to goal, made promises and changed the world—and in the end they were puppets tangling from a string.

_Momo Hinamori knows seven different routes to get to Aizen's old office. She has never dared walk more than a few steps down each of them._

This is Aizen's truth—it exists in the smiling face of a captain who's gentle voice polluted minds and twisted realities. It lives in the knowledge that a man who called himself comrade can spend centuries plotting the destruction of everything they knew. It is a truth that settles heavy and bitter; a bruise on the soul.

_Sajin Komamura never thought there would be something that could hurt him as deep as being born a beast with a soul. Then he had faith in a blind man._

_He was still betrayed._

A decade passes and then another. The land heals and lives continue. Time moves and duties bind.

Truth is a cutting thing and conviction a sharper blade. Between might and right they have learned to live a little more cautiously.

_Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryūsai is old. In his lifetime he has seen the rise of modern Soul Society and the near destruction of everything he has ever known. He is powerful and wise and a ruler in everyway one can be a ruler. _

_But he is already so very tired. _

_He does not think he can survive another of his children turning on their brothers and sisters. _

_Not again._

**S **

Rukongai transforms the closer one gets to central Seireitei. It's not that the buildings become something grander or that the Marketplace gains a level of opulence not seen in the edges of Rukongai. In fact, many of the same trinkets can be found in Rukongai District 3 and District 73, give or take a little bit more bloodshed.

It's the people that change. There is something less or more in the people. They lose a tightness in their eyes, a hunched tilt of their shoulders. Most would say the people gain more humanity; act a little more like their fellow man is not measured in how much blood will coat a knife's edge.

But those that _have_ lived on that knife's edge see a little differently. They see everyone else a little more faded. A little more blind. Deaf to the utter conscious of one's self that is experienced in the second before a fatal blow.

If Ichigo was honest he'd admit he'd been more than a little deaf most of his adult life, long after the adventure of his youth was sealed away. But there is no regret.

He knows he was happier as the _jiji_ of a hoard of children; some his, many not. He knows he became a man not in the blind rage and pride that consumed him when defending everything that he claimed, but in the first cry of his daughter's birth, in the soft sigh of his sister on her wedding day, in the skilled hands of a doctor that saved life in a very different way.

Except…

Except…in waking once again, in what might be his third, fourth, or even tenth life, he finds himself, for the first time, aware of the strange tapestry of his life. There was a reason he chose to forget a lifetime of battles.

He doesn't know how he hasn't broken, but he knows he might very well have if he'd chosen to remember the color of Yuzu's blood spilled on her favorite flowers. A lifetime later and he recognizes both his rage and stupidity and knows that he wouldn't have lived long after losing Yuzu the way he had. And all the justification he needs lies in the memories of Karin: Her first day of university, her flushed face the first time she brought a boy home to meet him, the reluctantly sweet smile anytime she talked about her children.

Except…many things are still broken within him. He still sees Rengi falling, Rukia bleeding, Ishida defeated, Orihime screaming her despair, Chad broken even after giving everything he was. Still sees his father…his father…still sees Yuzu…

Morosely, Ichigo realizes a war's worth of post-traumatic stress has just been shoved in his head along with the knowledge of his existence's strange duality. He knows if he stops to mope a second too long, the fragile threats of his existence might very well fray.

So he doesn't.

He's a man—boy—on a mission.

Seireitei regretted meeting him as a stupid overpowered boy on a mission to save a condemned Shinigami. They'll need more than the afterlife's grace to survive him after several lifetimes' worth of patience and cunning has been forcibly shoved into his skull.

He might very well be breaking at the seams, but even at the height of his stupidity he'd known life spent brooding was life wasted.

And this time he has seen enough grief and despair—counseled a host of people lost to it—to know he is suffering in his own way. For him, memories of the war live too closely to his heart. Time has lost its linearity. A century-old battlefield smelling of bitter dust and steel is just as clear as the scent of heavy wine toasted the day of his wedding. His father's eyes were bright both in the face of his old man and his grandson Murai.

He needed…He just needed to see. Needed to see a point in time, a reference, that would settle all the muddled thoughts in his head. He needed to know the war was over, his soldiers at peace, and their home safe.

He most definitely did not need to see his little sister caught up in some old man's paranoia.

The world flashed bellow him, hills and houses there and gone as he traveled as only he could travel. Though many a shinigami had thought the form of his zanpakuto a mockery of their own _(who the hell got a simple black katana as bankai?) _it had known what even Ichigo hadn't.

He was built for speed.

A flutter in the wind, a howl through the heavens—he lived in the moment.

**S**

He knew better than to walk up to Seireitei's gatekeeper and arm-wrestle the right to enter from him. Honestly, what sort of secrecy did _that_ provide for his clandestine mission? Because this time he fought alone and distractions were not running alongside him.

Besides, as the sort of man that nearly gave his life countless times for a woman who saved his family, there was little question of what he would give for his family itself.

This time nothing could be left to chance. At least nothing he could help. Truthfully, while not everything was in his control, he would assure as much as he could.

In the outer districts, with distinct hair bound by an un-dyed cloth, he purchased an herbal mix meant to dye his hair. Under a strange moon next to a river, his bright hair softened to a muted brown. It is a nostalgic color and the most natural on his face because he recognized it as the same shade belonging to Yuzu and his Mother. Away from the bright hair of his youth, his face was less harsh and sharp. Softer and more like the child he was pretending to be.

But no one could mistake him for a Rukongai newly arrived spirit, even if he was. His eyes were too aware for that. And that was one thing he would not be able to hide.

Fingers trailing across his always startling youthful face, Ichigo decided he would have to be a rough and tumble street child. It was about time Renji was an inspiration to anyone.

It took eight days to find who he needed and four more to move into place. Infiltration was never a skill practiced on a battlefield. He'd always been more of a blown-them-up-and-be-done-with-it sort of Living Shinigami.

But in the end he found what he wanted. Tenzou—the only name a local group of street kids knew—was young, loud, and, most of all, a Shinigami applicant form District 15. By the time Ichigo arranged to run into him, Tenzou had been joined by one other child—a girl named Suzuki.

Tenzou was a wonderful mix of stubbornness and pride. He made it no secret he was going to knock on the very gates of Seireitei to be a Shinigami and it remained inconceivable he wouldn't be chosen. Despite the disgruntled cringe on dubbing him as such, Tenzou became his "Ichigo". The flashy ticket needed to pave his way into the Academy and through that into Seireitei itself.

On the final day of Ichigo's reconnaissance, Tenzou and Suzuki stopped for the night at an empty lot. Scavenging for what little firewood they found, they lit a small fire. By the time Ichigo walked up to them they were more than half-asleep.

"Yo."

Suzuki blinked up at him. A very real part of him wanted to flame her ass—what the hell kinda instincts were _those_? Any half decent hollow would have tasted flesh before she'd even known there was danger.

_Kids. _(Ichigo had always been good at ignoring unfavorable comparisons to himself.)

Tenzou—half-decent as he was—showed a great deal more promise. The gangly boy nearly stumbled as he tried to get up but instead of wasting time correcting his stance he sprang back, giving himself more room to see the threat and plan a follow-up move.

_He approved._

"Yo." Ichigo cheerfully repeated. "You Tenzou?"

The boy narrowed grey eyes. "Yeah. What of it?"

Some part of him cringed at his "Ichigo". To be as blunt and straightforward as that again. But luckily he knew exactly how to deal with Tenzou. Ichigo kept his hands free, body relaxed, and eyes focused solely on Tenzou (nothing could quite raise his hackles like an enemy targeting a companion).

"I heard you're traveling to Seireitei. Can I come?" Simple and clear, give no reason to doubt. And if Tenzou was anything like Ichigo, he would appreciate straightforward questions. Even after a lifetime he'd never had any patience for the type of people who played with words.

Tenzou blinked at him, expression slightly dumbfounded. Scowling at the inconvenience that forced him to make a decision, Tenzou frowned back at him, "Why?"

Easily slouched with teenage insolence, Ichigo didn't pause as he truthfully answered. "My sister went away to be Shinigami. I'm gonna be one too." Hunching a bit defensively he added, "Besides, everyone else already headed off."

"Course they have, kid." Tenzou scoffed at the physically younger Ichigo. "This year's Shinigami classes will begin in less than a week. If we miss opening day, it means another year of waiting. You sure about this kid? Shinigami is not all about spells and techniques—you'll probably be the smallest kid in there."

Ichigo didn't even have to pretend to scowl. "I can do it. Probably a lot better than either of you!"

"Watch it boy, else we'll leave you here." Tenzou scowled back. And though it was clear Tenzou had misgivings about the whole thing, in the end Ichigo _had _approached Tenzou because he reminded him of himself. Despite his concern, Tenzou, like Ichigo, would not stand in his way.

"Whatever kid. But you're on your own if you don't pass the Academy Entrance Exam."

"Right!" Ichigo paused. "What entrance exam?"

The older boy could only eye him. "You sure about this Shinigami thing, kid?"

Neither of those watching could quite explain what set of the young brown-haired, brown-eyed boy in their midst laughing. They could only wonder why he couldn't seem to stop.

But Ichigo could tell them _(if only he could stop laughing_), some things just weren't funny _(even when they hopelessly were)._

**S**

There's a reason behind the most innocuous of things. That is a truer sentiment no where else but in a society like that of the Shinigami. The long memories of its inhabitants create habits that become traditions that are made into doctrine.

That is how it begins.

So by the time Ichigo comes tumbling into tradition set in stone (but breakable still) there is some doctrine even he has never thought to break.

He says nothing as a seamstress and her assistant fit him into pre-made shihakushō, the Shinigami's black uniform. But inwardly it is the first time (much to his chagrin) that he has stopped to consider why Shinigami (and even Arrancar) dress as they do when Vizards have always been insolently casual in their attire.

"Woven and stitched with protection against small kudo spells and made for durability," the seamstress murmured as she collected various articles into a neat pile.

A nearby off-duty Shinigami, arm in a sling and bandages disappearing into his chest, snorted.

_("We are their enemy!" Ichigo remembers a veteran Shinigami telling a young rookie, solemn back stiff as they sent off the victims of a Hollow's attack. "Before they go after another, they know the moment they see us, they'd better pay attention to us before we tear them apart!")_

_(Hirako Shinji ruffled his dirty blond hair, his tan cap coated in a fine layer of dust and sneer not quite hidden beneath his ever-present Cheshire grin. "They're too afraid of what we became to ever accept us as one of them.")_

_(Blind eyes stared straight ahead even as the world burned, white uniform reduced to rags on a bleeding body, "AIZEN-SAMA!")_

_(Mizuiro beamed even as Keigo and Tatsuki scuffled a bit. "Hold still for the picture!"_

"_I'm so happy Kurosaki-kun." Orihime whispered as she straightened his school uniform. He didn't say anything, merely smiling back. On his other side, Ishida stood stiffly and only Ichigo would ever know when the other boy bumped his own agreement._

"_Yeah. Me too." _

_They were graduating.) _

Ichigo lets his lips curl at the seamstress. He thinks he knows the true reason behind her first-year Academy explanation. And it has little to do with its durability.

"There you go, dear, that should be enough uniforms for the time being. You'll be responsible for making your own repairs with your own reiatsu."

"Thank you, ma'am"

"Next!"

Ichigo moves from his place in line. As he walks toward his new room assignment, his eyes land on Tenzou. The boy's hands are full with his own uniform and it's clear Tenzou is lost from the way his eyes keep shifting around looking for a clue.

Scowling at the reminder, Ichigo jogs up to him and is not very careful as he jabs his shoulder into the middle of Tensor's unprotected back.

"HEY! What the hell was that for?"

Ichigo glared back. "'Academy Entrance Exam'? Could you have been any more unhelpful? The most we had to do was flare our reiatsu!"

Miffed, Tenzou straightened. "I thought you knew!"

Ichigo merely rolled his eyes. "I do now! No thanks—...Hey, hold up! This is our dormitory!"

Distracted, both boys pushed a plain door open. For a moment neither moved. Six bunk beds lined the wall and medium-sized bureaus separated the beds alongside one wall. On the other side a long row of desks lay bare.

Already more than half the beds were occupied, the chatter of boys giving the room life. But it was not enough to disguise the bare and colorless furnishing. Flinging his newly issued uniform and the bag that had accompanied him since his awakening onto one of the empty top bunks, Ichigo climbed up.

A half-laugh and sigh later, he buried his head into a newly starched pillow.

_Dear Kami, he'd just joined the military._

Worse yet, he was considering toppling the very same institution.

Ghostly cracking touched his senses. His Other's presence rose in his mind. _'It's damn well time you stopped sacrificing yourself for the shit Shinigami.'_

'_Take her back.'_ Zangetsu agreed.

Hidden as he was, Ichigo felt his lips curl into a wild grin. For a moment his face was fierce and bright with too many teeth.

He was in Seireitei.

**S**

**TBC**

**26 June 2009**

**AN1: Guess who's back? Thanks to all who've appreciated and loved this story while I angsted about my writer's bloc. Currently (and very ****unexpectedly****) I'm in the middle of a writer's splurge. These past few days I've been finishing up all the forgotten chapters' on my computer. **

**Thanks **_**Shadow Rebirth**_** for going over my rough draft. **


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